#i will say though the way it ends seemed a little abrupt. after i broke phineas out of Space Prison it was like. a small heart-to-heart.

[agi-ppangx]

Duh, girl.... I just thought of a story that's really sad, if one of the straykids members whose relationship with his girlfriend feels distant. Because of what? Because he's lost interest and they rarely communicate because they're really busy, but... He doesn't want to let you go, with the words "I still love you". But you're really tired of this kind of relationship, and you're also stressed because you have a lot of work, same as him.

Do you think they'll continue with the vague relationship or finally break up even though there must be a little regret and sadness for sure?

💭tell me you love me

pairing: skz member x fem!reader

warning: swearing

an: anonnie why are you doing this to me💔 no but i actually love this idea so much and i may have made this drabble a bit too angsty, choosing an abrupt ending, but i hope you'll like it nonetheless<33 i also didn't mention any names so you can imagine any of the members :]

“i’m tired of this,” you whispered, tears making their way down your face. he only sighed in response, plopping heavily on the couch. you felt defeated, stressed and so extremely tired. you were standing in the very middle of your living room, staring at your so-called boyfriend. “i told you so many times i’m a busy man. i can’t help it. and you were aware of all of this when you decided to be my girlfriend!” he shouted, but you didn’t even flinch. you didn’t care anymore. “well, i thought that maybe you would try a little bit more to make things work. but here we are instead,” you spat, your voice trembling. “i’m trying! stop with this whole narrative, you know i still love you.”

you always thought your relationship was stable, that your fights were just meant to make it stronger. you wanted to believe in forever with him - since day one you promised to make effort and find time for one another. but it seemed as if he broke the promise at the first opportunity. and when you confronted him about it he always had the same response - “you know i still love you.”

“have you ever thought about how i feel? how i feel when you ignore me for your friends, how you literally avoid me when we’re both home and how you don’t even speak to me anymore? do you ever think about anything else but yourself?!” “shut up! it’s not my fault you are insecure about everything. i’m tired and when i get home from work all i think about is getting some sleep, not making sure you are taken care of. you’re a grown-up, you don’t need me around all the time.” he got up abruptly, screaming at you. you scoffed at his words. you couldn’t believe your ears - it had to be a nightmare, right? you took a step in his direction, then another one until you were standing right in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes. your vision was blurry but it didn’t stop you from trying to burn holes in his face. “do you even love me anymore?” you asked, your voice barely above the whisper. he kept eye contact with you for a while before speaking again through gritted teeth. “you know i do.” “then say it properly. tell me you love me and say you’re sorry.” he hesitated. he fucking hesitated and that was your last straw. you left him in the living room and went to your bedroom to pack essential things. “oh my god, of course i still love you. stop acting like a fucking child!” he went after you, screaming something after these words, but your mind couldn't comprehend his lies anymore. your face was covered in tears, eyes stung and it felt harder to breathe with every passing second. when you had all your stuff packed you faced him for the final time. “if you at least apologised, i would've stayed. i would stay here with you and try to work this out, because i do love you, truly. but you’re a fucking liar playing on my emotions and i’m not going to waste even a minute more on you,” you shouted into his face, almost choking on your tears, and simply left the apartment. and the worst part is that he didn’t even try to stop you, letting you go.

taglist: @lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist💚

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz bang chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz han #skz felix #skz seungmin #skz jeongin

[margarethx]

There is a strange man standing at Sam's door.

Pale, with long hair and beginnings of a thin beard; his eyes covered by a baseball cap, but glinting in the shadows in a way that suggests he's sober, or at least alert.

He stands in an ostensibly relaxed pose.

He still looks like he's one abrupt sound away from bolting.

He knocked on the door instead of ringing the bell, as if he knew Sam was home and close enough to hear the noise muffled slightly by the glove covering his hand.

There's no one around at this hour and the entrance to Sam's house is obscured from the street by a few bushes and trashcans pulled out for the garbage men to collect in the morning. If someone broke inside, no one would be able to tell if they weren't already looking directly into Sam's small garden. Which, likely, no one does.

Sam also doesn't have any friends who visit him at home and both sides of his close family live a few states away. He tries his best to keep in touch with them, but if he disappeared from the radar for a couple of days, maybe even weeks, no one would be alarmed. So... if the stranger at his door harms him, it'll take a long time for anyone to notice. Maybe a couple of people at the VA will have some questions after the weekend, but his schedule is not regular enough for anyone to think something's off when he's not there the next Monday.

With all that in mind, Sam pushes away from the peephole he's been peering through for the last minute to unlock the door.

The man outside looks a bit lost. In need of assistance. And Sam's spent way too many years risking his life to save others to back down now, just because he's what... scared? Sam's not scared. He fought with literal helicopters and won such duel multiple times. A strange man with no fashion sense visiting his home is nothing compared to that.

The guy's probably homeless, simply trying his luck in a safer neighbourhood. It's better if Sam's the one to open his door instead of some weirdo down the street, who'll chase him away with a gun.

Sam is, technically speaking, a weirdo with a gun tucked into the waistline of his sweatpants, though he's not planning on using it. And if he'll have to, he won't be excited about that. Which is a key difference in his eyes.

Sam's a couple of years removed from the initial fear and PTSD fuelled paranoia that haunted him after leaving the Air Force. He did the work. Went through therapy. Read the books. Pushed himself to go out there; to mingle with people without succumbing to the need to crawl under the nearest table at the first louder noise.

He's not removed enough, however, to answer the door completely unarmed. Which is how he ends up here. With a gun concealed on his back, opening his home for a random man, whose intentions might range from simply asking Sam for something like directions to the nearby cemetery, to making sure Sam's the one who ends up there within the next week.

The hinges screech a little as he pushes the door, which is by design. Because of the lingering paranoia of course, not because he forgot to buy a new can of WD-40 for a fifth month in a row.

The man at his porch looks up, as if alarmed by the noise. He seems surprised that Sam answered, but he smiles pleasantly right away. If Sam was listening to his aforementioned paranoia, he'd say that the smile was too quick, almost too pleasant, and too calculated to seem genuine. But he really tries to get better and not assume the worst these days.

"Hello? How can I help you?", he asks, trying to match the energy and sound just kind enough for the ghost of his mother to not appear with her disapproving face in his next dream.

The man hesitates a little, giving Sam a second to take a proper look at him.

What's most striking about him is the bulky built. Broad shoulders and strong legs, paired with a - probably - flat stomach. It's difficult to see with all the layers of clothing the guy's wearing, but overall, he seems like a naturally muscular person hidden under an ill-fitting jacket and too-baggy jeans.

There's some underlying stiffness to his pose - something that Sam's already noticed at first glance, but which is all the more evident now that he can see the full silhouette of the man

If Sam had more time to assess his guest, he's probably dwell on the fact that his face looks disturbingly familiar. Or on the fact that said face, along with the rest of the body, is very much Sam's type. But he does not have that time, so he cuts this line of thinking as quickly as it forms in his brain.

"I've...," answers the man, finally. "I know it'll sound weird, but I..." He pauses once more, looking down at his palms, as if he's a student trying to cheat by reading the answers of the inside of his hand. "A guy I met recently goes to the VA. The one you work at," the man clarifies unnecessarily. "And I've heard that you've helped a couple of his friends before, so I thought that... well."

He stops talking, losing steam by the end. Speaking seems to be taking a toll on him and he stops even looking at Sam by the end of his vague explanation.

It's enough, however, to calm Sam's nerves. He unclenches his jaw and all the other muscles his body readied for a fight that never came and the immediate relief almost startles an embarrassing moan out of him. He didn't even realize how tense he was. He hopes that the guy didn't notice too.

"It's okay, man. I get it," he replies with a smile.

And he does get it. He's been there. He knows how it feels to finally take a step in the new direction. To try staying neutral or cynical because of misplaced self-preservation instincts, but feeling the hope already filling your chest anyway.

The man lifts his head and shoots a shy smile Sam's way.

"I hoped you would," he says. "My friend said a couple of his old buddies from the army been to your groups and it helped. So I... I wanted to check for myself.

Sam's smile becomes much more genuine.

"Glad to hear that," he replies honestly. It's always good to know that his efforts actually affect the people who struggle the same way that he did. He's curious which vets his guest is referring to, but he stops himself from asking. It's not relevant right now. "And you'd like to join one of my groups too?"

The answering nod is a little unsure, but Sam can work with that.

"I'll give you some pamphlets and the schedule for my next three meetings," he offers, trying to remember where he put the pile of fliers from the VA which littered his coffee table for a few months at one point.

Before he has the time to fully move from the doorstep he's stopped by a strong and sudden grip on his wrist. Very strong. Almost crushing.

The alarm bells in his head blare, his vision narrowing, while his other hand makes a move to his back where a gun is still hidden in his sweatpants.

But then the pressure is gone from Sam's arm and the man is looking right at him, confused, then mortified. Whether he's scared of his own reaction or the gun he must sense in the vicinity, Sam cannot tell.

"I'm so, so sorry! I don't know why I did that, just... Let me..."

He stops. Sam blinks at him.

There're good ten seconds of uncomfortable silence before any of them speaks again.

"It's fine," Sam says, carefully. He wets his lips and the man's eyes track the movement. "Like I said... I get it." He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strangled. "I don't like sudden movements too."

The guy at the door almost shrinks, his shoulders going up, as if he's trying to cover his face even more. But he seems relieved. Like it's easy to just have someone who understands, when the explanation seems too embarrassing to voice.

"Yeah..."

Sam takes a deep breath, hoping to push through the awkward moment and put the man at ease.

"Like I said, I'll go to take a pamphlet and write down my schedule for you," he says, taking a slow step inside. "I'll be back in a minute." Without waiting for a response he nods as if to silently ask the guy to stay where he is. Then looks for a pen and the fliers almost on autopilot, hoping that his porch won't be empty when he's back.

Or maybe hoping it already is.

When he steps through the door again, the man is still there. Just as shifty as before. As Sam hands him the papers, he opens his mouth, starting another apology, but Sam shushes him right away.

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." He adds a smile for reassurance. "My schedule is right here. If you can't come this month, you can always go in anyway. Ask around and find my office. We'll figure something out."

With a silent "thanks" the man starts to slowly back away from his doorstep. It seems as if he wants to stay, though. To ask for something more, but doesn't know what to say or maybe how to say it. Finally, with a small wave, he exits Sam's lawn. And then he's gone.

It takes Sam another five minutes of contemplative staring at the street to remember that his home address is not public information and neither of his former vets should know where he lives. None of them would know where to look for him outside of the VA.

Before he has the time to have a panic attack about that he finally registers the pain in his arm. He frowns and pulls up his sleeve where a set of dark, angry looking bruises form a shape of a closed palm on his skin.

He locks the door as calmly as possible, using an extra lock he hasn't taken out of the drawer since last year. He pulls the curtains over the windows, grabs his phone, and spends the rest of the day sitting on the floor with a gun between his legs, within reach.

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

Well... I don't even know what this story is xD I just sat down and wrote the first thing that came to my mind. Now I somehow ended up with a plot outline for at least 4-5 chapters. Maybe I'll even write them one day <3

Hope you enjoyed witnessing the birth of my WiP number 2309745.

[PART 2 on tumblr is here]

[Ao3 LINK is here]

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon #captain america #winter soldier #ca:tws #mcu #marvel #winterfalcon #sam x bucky #onlysambucky #samuel thomas wilson #james bucky barnes #ATWK #assassinate them with kindness

[graff-aganda]

Finished a first main story playthrough of the outer worlds and i 👁️👁️

#mixed opinions. I'll say that lol #still had fun tho. I'm gonna do the gorgon dlc next from an earlier save. finish up the last mission again and then do a messed up evil run #and a run where i try to get all the achievements if i feel like it #spoilers in next tags: #i will say though the way it ends seemed a little abrupt. after i broke phineas out of Space Prison it was like. a small heart-to-heart. #he talks to you and it kind of felt like we were then going to kinda go out with a bang. with one or two more important missions. #find out more about the earth going dark on halcyon and the whole reviving the colonists thing #i just kinda felt like there was some more stuff to be done that could have helped end the story in a more 'noteworthy' or 'cinematic' way #compared to the whole. 'my friend you and I have a lot of work to do' #letting me ASK QUESTIONS about what was to be done next. like how you do for all previous missions. and then BOOM cut to the slideshow #and some of the companion quests felt a bit lacking... but im not sure if thats bc some of the later ones. I already had a bunch of- #locations unlocked??? hm #but for real. ellie and felix felt like their missions kinda sucked. #parvati max and nyoka all had pretty solid ones I feel though #and i wish they did more visually unique stuff. the effects during max's incense trip and crawling into that crashed ship with a diagonal- #slant felt really cool. the time slowing thing also is super cool though. I love it a whole lot more than vats I feel #slowing stuff down without a total pause to the game. keeps you light on your feet! #anyway. thats all for now 👁️👁️ #delete later #grafftalk

[nastyatticman]

Uhh hi

Could you do just phone sex with billy lenz but with a male reader? And like showing both povs

Sorry if that too much

It’s not too much! I love this prompt 👀 I love writing Billy’s POV too, it’s fun!

This ended up way longer than I intended but I had a lot of fun with it! Enjoy :3c

Billy Lenz x male Reader

Warnings: voyeurism, crude language (it’s Billy Lenz after all). Reader is male, and it’s written vague enough to be trans inclusive. (Well, it works for me, but YMMV. Words like cock, hole, etc are used) 18+ Only

Things were tense lately - you were having an awful time at work, and it didn’t help that people were always rude about your work’s mask policy. You just couldn’t understand how someone would complain about having to wear a piece of cloth in the five minutes it took to order donuts, especially to you, who obviously had to wear one all day and stay on your feet the whole time.

It was stupid. People are stupid. You were just glad to get back to your apartment and lay down for a while. It was a little lonely, just you and the plants since your roommate was out to visit his girlfriend’s family. Not that you’d missed seeing him every day in quarantine.

No, you kind of appreciated the privacy. Today you were frustrated and couldn’t think of anything that sounded better than getting off. So you watered the plants, grabbed yourself a drink, and loaded up a video you bought recently.

You started off slow, rubbing yourself through your clothes as the guys started making out on the screen - the big screen, since you finally felt comfortable watching porn on your laptop. As things started to escalate, you undid your pants, finally stroking your cock directly. But, like all things today, some stranger decided to interrupt you.

The phone rang down the hall and you almost let it ring, but you remembered your friend was expecting a call from a place he’d applied to, so you had to answer it anyway. Ugh. You rinsed your hand quickly and picked it up.

“Hello?”

The line was silent, save for some heavy breathing. God, not this guy again... You weren’t sure who the mystery caller was, but he’d grown on you. First you thought it was your roommate’s friend Peter playing a prank on you (even though you’d met him and his girlfriend Jess, and they seemed serious, despite how out of his league she was). You didn’t know, straight men are weird.

But Peter denied it when you had your roommate ask him, so... And besides, how many straight men call their male acquaintances to proposition them for sex?

At this point, it was tempting - you didn’t have time to meet people since the lockdown began, and your roommate was out...

The man kept breathing, once in a while making a strangled noise like he was trying not to laugh.

“Are you gonna get to the point already?” you asked him.

He laughed. “You want my cock, you pig? Fuck - fucking whore wants my fat fucking cock, filling up his tight ass?”

“Oh, quit projecting on me,” you teased. “I bet you’d want me to fuck your ass, don’t you?”

He was speechless for a second, and you heard something that could be him swallowing hard over the phone. His response was barely audible. “Maybe. Y- yeah.”

You smirked, you didn’t know if that would work. “Yeah, if I were there you know what I’d do?”

He took a shaky breath. “What?”

“I’d bend you over for me, yeah,” you said, voice low. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but you brought the phone into your room, laying back on the bed, your hand back to stroke yourself through your pants. “If - if you’re wearing pants I’d rip them off, I don’t fucking care. I’d spread your cheeks and eat your ass.”

You thought back to something he said on a previous call. “You like tongue fucking, huh?” The only response you got was his breathing getting harder, the sounds of skin slapping against skin on the other end. Hook, line, and sinker.

“I’d fuck you on my tongue, fill you up with it, so you’re ready to take my fingers,” you continue. There was a strangled moan on the other end. “Start you off with one, I bet you’d want another just as fast. You’d beg for it, huh?”

“Fuck me,” he rasped.

“Someone’s a needy little... pig, huh?” you asked. He made a noise like he was choking, almost, which made you nervous for a second. But he seemed fine by the way he kept at it. Only thing that was being choked was his chicken on the other end of the line, you were sure. “What do you have to say to that?”

Click.

The only answer you got was a dial tone. That dick hung up on you!

Well, shit, you were already there, you may as well... You put the phone down and laid back, stroking your cock again. You had no idea what that guy looked like, but the sound of him moaning and touching himself over the phone was more than enough to get you off...

The rest of the day passed normally. Unsurprisingly, you got a good night’s sleep after that.

After another grueling day at the workplace, you got back to your apartment. Your roommate wasn’t there, but you saw that he left you a note on the counter explaining he was going to see his girlfriend again. That was fine by you, you... wouldn’t admit it, but you were maybe hoping for another call.

What you didn’t expect was how soon it would happen.

—

Billy watched the man walking up to the apartment complex, and slowly made his way to where he’d been staying. There was a surprisingly large storage room that had decent phone reception, and it was easy to steal from the building’s laundry room bit by bit if you knew what you were doing...

He waited and listened, drumming his fingers on his thighs. If he was quiet enough, he could just hear the sound of you unlocking and closing the door behind you. Click. Locked again.

Billy flipped open his phone and checked the time. 4:45. Okay, he’d give you maybe 7 minutes to get comfortable before he called. He flipped the phone closed, and grabbed something to occupy himself. It just was a broken Rubik’s cube he swiped from someone who visited a few weeks ago, but it was enough to keep him from getting tempted and getting to the main event before he even got you on the line with him. Well, that and to keep him from agonizing over it. He’d never had someone take over like that with him... he had plenty of people tell him to fuck himself, sure, but none so far that had told him they’d fuck him themselves.

None like you.

Eventually he gave up trying to solve it for real and just broke the pieces off, assembling it in the right colors. 4:55. Time enough for you.

He picked up the phone, leaning back on the wall, and dialed your number. Waiting for you to pick up, he fidgeted with his fly and undid his pants.

“Hello?” came your voice on the other end.

“I’ve been thinking about you, what you said,” he started up, groping his hardening cock.”How about I return the favor and fuck your tight fucking hole?”

Your voice was like honey to him. “Oh? Tell me about it, piggy.”

He gritted his teeth, grabbing his cock harder than he meant to. “You’re the pig, you- you took Billy’s call, you whore.”

“Fine by me,” you said, cool as a cucumber. “Tell me about it, Billy. If that’s your name.”

Billy bit his lip, doing his best to get his cock out with one hand. “Wanna - I wanna shove you against a wall, Turn you around, cover your mouth so your fucking roommate can’t hear you moaning for me. Grope your thighs, pull your goddamn hair, how about that?”

“Sounds good, but you know what really gets me going?” you asked. “I want you to bite me. Can you do that for me, Billy?”

“Yes,” he replied instantly. “Bite you so hard I leave fucking marks for fucking days. They’ll know you’re mine, mine, mine.” God, he was hard, his cock was leaking already, and he just used it to lube his hand as he stroked harder and faster.

“Oh? Why don’t you make me yours then? You wanna come in me?”

“Of course,” he replied, barely letting you finish. “I’m gonna fuck your tight little hole so hard you can’t fucking walk for days, everyone’s gonna hear you moan for me so hard, like a whore, Billy’s whore. Yes, I’m gonna fuck you sore, fuck you raw, fuck you senseless, come in your greedy fucking hole.”

He was close, he knew it. And for once you didn’t have a wise guy response for him! He barked out a laugh and imitated your voice almost perfectly. “What do you have to say to that?”

You didn’t respond fast enough, and it only made him cackle.

“I’m c-close, I’m gonna come,” he said. “Think about me flooding your tight little hole, you pig.”

He came, finally, and moaned into the phone for you. He played it up a little, for your benefit of course. He wouldn’t admit that was the hardest he’d come in a while.

You were close to follow him, and he sat there, panting, listening to you come down from your peak. He snickered. “Good piggy.”

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked, half joking.

“Yes,” he said instantly. “I’ll meet you, how about that?”

“Fuck yes, please,” you said. “Wait, how would you know where to meet me?”

Click.

Despite his abruptness, Billy was nothing if not a man of his word. Of course, you wouldn’t find that out until tomorrow...

#nasty attic originals #billy lenz x reader #slasher x male reader #lemon #nsft #any chance i get to trash peter in a black christmas fanfic is a chance i take #don't worry let's say attic man is vaccinated

[jschllatt]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too? 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst

Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3

Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll. 

Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy. 

Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.

You realized it one day as he was filming. 

It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful. 

And so, you let him go.

Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—

“Okay.” 

Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing. 

“Okay?”

Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.

A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected. 

“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”

Two months had passed. 

Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you. 

Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house. 

“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.

The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop. 

His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music. 

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathin’ in your dust.

Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting. 

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing. 

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands. 

Secrets I have held in my heart.

“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features. 

Are harder to hide than I thought. 

“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply,  “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him. 

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.

Wanna be yours

Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted. 

“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!” 

Sapnap. 

Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.” 

Wanna be yours

You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near. 

Wanna be yours

“Deal.”

#dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream angst #dreamwastaken angst #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt angst

[fantasydaydreamers]

"The Walkdown Challenge"

Summary: Based on the TikTok fantasy that your favorite character hits every beat in this song👀💦: Walkdown - FNF Chop

Words: 1,675

Warnings: Lemon

Author's Note: I need to go touch some grass but I don't wanna.

It was a normal weekend in the 1A dorms and everyone was spending their time in the lounge area, either on their phone or watching TV. You, however, were seated on the couch next to your boyfriend scrolling through TikTok videos aimlessly, watching whatever came on your 'for you page.'

The next video that popped up was a group of guys dancing to an upbeat song that had you subconsciously bopping your head along. Not bad...Sero is a better dancer though. Swiping to the next video, you see a girl with her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock with the same song playing in the background. Quirking an eyebrow, you read along to the words flashing across the screen.

'Imagine your bf hitting every beat while you two-ADGJSDLKJD'

The closed caption had you raising both of your eyebrows as you turned the volume up on your phone to the max.

"Oh you kiss that bitch on the lips

clip so long bitch it hang out the glick

big chop walk down don't hang out the whip

got money on my mind, don't think 'bout a bitch

drum drum go dumb when I slide with the stick"

"(Y/n)! You saw that video too?!" Mina calls from across the room where she was currently on her phone as well. You shoot her a warning look before glancing to your boyfriend next to you who was still absorbed in his own phone. Seeing him still absorbed in his own world, you turn back to Mina relieved. She snickers and you stick your tongue out at her before turning your attention back to your phone and add the song to your playlist.

Mina grins mischievously, still looking at you cuddled up next to your boyfriend, and finds the same TikTok, sending it to your man without your knowledge.

Mina: don't watch this video now, but trust me, (Y/n) was looking at iiiitttt~😏if you know what i meann👀

~*~*~*~*

It wasn't until later that night, you were with your man in your dorm and things were starting to get hot and heavy. It seemed different than normal and you couldn't figure out why. His gaze was intense and dark as he loomed above you, giving you deep strokes which already had your eyes rolling back in your head. A laugh escapes his breathless lips as he leans over you and reaches for his phone.

"What are you doing?" You ask weakly, thinking he's about to take a picture of you. He stilled his movements, gripping your thigh as he took deep breaths feeling you clench around his cock, craving the friction.

"Trying something."

That was the only answer he gave you before the speaker in your room connected. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as silence filled the room as your breathing started to even out. Just then, a familiar beat came blasting through your speakers and you looked up at him with wide eyes seeing a dangerous smirk on his lips.

Bakugou

The first few lines started and Bakugou remained still listening to the beat, his head tilting to the side in concentration as he threw his phone off to the side. The smirk was prominent on his lips as he brought his focus back to you. The hand gripping your thigh trails down to behind your knee before your leg was roughly put on his shoulder.

Letting out a squeal at the stretch, Bakugou leaned further down, the feeling of him reaching deeper inside making your toes curl. "(Y/n)," he chuckles darkly, "I'm going to fucking wreck you." His hips snap against yours sharply, making your hands scramble for support. His chuckle turned into a laugh as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, matching the song perfectly. You could feel the wind being knocked out of your chest, as Bakugou's cock filled you up with deep and powerful thrusts.

"Dirty...fucking...slut." Bakugou growls, his hand flexing on your raised leg before moving to your throat. The shift in his weight caused your body to stretch out even more, the burn in your hamstrings quickly forgotten by your oxygen supply being cut off.

The pleasure was overwhelming and the idea of Bakugou using you as he pleases pushed you closer to the edge, his cock kissing your cervix as he leaned down. "Open your mouth."

Already letting out broken groans, you widen your mouth more and stick out your tongue drunkenly. The hand on your throat angles your head up and Bakugou spits in your mouth. "Swallow and cum for me like the good little slut you are, (Y/n)."

You weren't even sure how far you got into the song, all you know is that he sped up for the last few thrusts causing a scream to escape your mouth, that only broke off at the end as Bakugou rode you through your orgasm, making you blackout.

Todoroki

Todoroki gently placed his phone back down, staring at you like you were his prey. His piercing gaze had you shuddering as his hands landed behind your knees, pulling them up to your chest in a mating press. The angle had his cock hitting deeper, that sweet spot inside of you making you cry out.

"It's right there, isn't it?" Todoroki whispers, his cool breath fanning gently across your face from the proximity. He rolls his hips experimentally, watching you squirm underneath him as you gasp and let out choked moans. Tears start to form in your eyes because everything felt like it was too much. Todoroki was pressing into you everywhere and his cock brushed against that special spot every time he rolled his hips.

"Are you ready, baby?" Todoroki sighed as he stopped the roll of his hips as you whimpered out futility. He was motionless for a second and the feeling of his hips pulling back didn't prepare you for the force of him coming back in. Your breath was forced from your chest as Todoroki railed into your dripping cunt with steady movements. You couldn't look away from him, his own moans filling the space between you two.

Your legs kicked uselessly in the air every time he thrusted in, your body no longer functioning as Todoroki held you down. "You look so beautiful, (Y/n). Cum for me, baby."

The deepest groan left his mouth, your vision going white as the last thing you remember feeling was Todoroki's cum filling you so deep that you shuddered violently before passing out.

Kaminari

Kaminari laughed, tossing his phone over his shoulder. "Get on your hands and knees." The way that sentence left Kaminari's mouth had you shivering and listening, your limbs already shakey from your pleasure. His cock slipped out, as he allowed you to position yourself for him, presenting your drooling lips, puffy with arousal.

Kaminari hums and you feel his cock slide back in with no warning, already setting the pace to the song. You screamed from the abrupt feeling, your walls spasming around him violently. "Yes~ (Y/n), you tightened up real nice for me~ you like it hard and rough? You like this cock so deep inside you lose your mind?"

Just then, Kamianri pulled you up by your shoulders, your back against his chest, arching slightly at the new angle. Your head fell back as one of his hands trails back down to your hips, moving you with him in time to the beat.

"I'm going to get you so addicted to my cock, that your pussy will only be satisfied by me." Filth dripped from Kamianri's mouth and into your ear as the other hand held you back against his chest by your neck. You couldn't do anything besides stare at the ceiling as he relentlessly thrusted into you, wet slapping noises filling the room as broken cries fell from your mouth and moans fell from Kaminari's.

"I'll make you cum extra hard for me because I know my baby loves my quirk so much~ why don't I play with your cute little clit?" The hand on your hip moves down and the first gentle shock had you over the edge instantly, Kaminari still keeping the pace of the song as you rode out your pleasure, your vision going dark.

Bonus:

Hawks

"Heh~ baby bird you're trembling already? The song just started." Keigo grinned from behind you, his gaze locked onto yours in the mirror. You were currently on all fours, forced to look at yourself getting railed and pulled apart. What you thought would just lead to a normal love-making session quickly turned into more when Keigo opened up his phone and showed you a video on TikTok.

"I bet I can make you cum to this song," he declared, mischievousness glinting in his eyes. You shot him the most ridiculous look, weirded out that he seemed so determined. What made you more turned off was the fact that he just showed you a TikTok video. Like...what?

Keigo watched the appalled emotions flash across your face and almost smirked, but waited patiently for you to answer. Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest, not believing a word coming from his mouth. "Okay. Bet."

That's what led you to your current situation, after what seemed like countless foreplay, your body was trembling as Keigo gripped the back of your neck with one hand and your hip with the other, thrusting into your body at the speed of the song blasting throughout the speakers in his house.

The rhythmic thrusts hit your g-spot every time, Keigo's angle precise as he panted and chuckled at your reflection. "Clenching down so soon? You gonna cum for me baby bird? I know you like this fat cock hitting you nice and deep...yeahh~ look at you drooling and crying for me. Say my name, baby bird. Say it."

With a few last thrusts in quick secession, you scream out Keigo's name as you cum, his upper body draping over your back to growl in your ear.

"The song isn't over yet, (Y/n)."

#i want Bakugou to spit in my mouth #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader lemon #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader lemon #bakugou smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader lemon #todoroki shouto #hawks x reader #hawks x reader lemon #takami keigo smut #takami keigo #kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader lemon #kaminari denki

[havenoffandoms]

72 for Geralt/Jaskier?

I meant to post this a lot earlier... sorry about the wait, nonnie. I hope you like it anyway. I'm not sure how it came out in the end after I agonised over this for the past couple of days, but it was fun going back to my Geraskier roots.

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Prompt 72: Character A has a secret. Character B does whatever they can to find out what it is. When they find out, they wish they hadn't.

Warnings: brief angsty episode, mention of Geralt's traumatic childhood

Also, I love that art! Holy Shit!? So of course this had to feature before the fic <3

Travelling with Jaskier had its downfalls.

For one, the bard talks a lot. He never stops, not even in his sleep, and that would drive any man insane if you ask Geralt. He listens to Jaskier waffling about poetry all day, every day, he doesn’t have to endure a lecture on the benefits of iambic pentameters when he’s trying to fall asleep, thank you very much. Jaskier also likes to complain about every little thing that causes him discomfort, which when they’re on the path, ranges from fly bites all the way to sore feet. Travelling with a human also means that they travel considerably slower, unless they’re both riding on top of Roach, but Geralt doesn’t like putting his best girl under that kind of strain very often.

For all of Jaskier’s flaws, Geralt would hate to have to separate from his bard. At least, when Jaskier is close by, Geralt can keep an eye on him and make sure Jaskier doesn’t get himself into any unnecessary trouble. Having Jaskier travel with him gives Geralt peace of mind. He appreciates the singing as well, even if he could stand to tell Jaskier this a bit more often. Geralt deems that his bard’s ego is plenty inflated without Geralt making it worse. Not to mention that life always seems a little bit brighter when Jaskier is around, and the nights are a little less lonely as Geralt gets to pull his bard close and fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart. Knowing that Jaskier is safe is the only thing that lets Geralt sleep peacefully at night.

You’d think that after nearly two decades of knowing his bard, Geralt would have figured out Jaskier’s secret by now. Geralt is, of course, referring to Jaskier’s near supernatural ability to always come up with coin when he and Geralt need it most urgently. Geralt has no idea how the bard does it - his songs are popular, granted, and on a good night Jaskier makes enough to buy a nice room for the night and the better pieces of meat from the kitchen. Still, being a bard doesn’t pay that well, not even if you were as famous as Jaskier. Just last week, Geralt’s horse and most of his belonging were stolen by bandits, leaving Geralt travelling on foot and too poor to afford to buy a new horse. Two days later, Jaskier came trotting up to their camp atop a gorgeous mare, looking mighty pleased with himself but refusing to tell Geralt how he managed to afford to pay for the horse.

“Would you believe me if I told you I stole her, Geralt, my dear?”

“Not in a million years,” Geralt admitted deadpan, pulling an offended squawk from his songbird.

“Just because I’m a bard you don’t think I can steal a horse?”

“I don’t think you could ever steal a horse because you’re as stealthy as the proverbial bull in the porcelain shop.”

It’s not just the horse, though. Geralt’s armour needed replacing and good armour doesn’’t come cheaply. Geralt doesn’t hire the services of just any blacksmith or armourer to craft his weapons and protective gear. He has his regular suppliers, the ones he always goes back to because he knows that their work is reliable and of the highest quality. And even though these people know Geralt by now, even offer him a friends and family discount on occasion, their wares still come at a hefty price. Geralt, as it turns out, didn’t have the coin to replace his armour for a few months. He desperately needed new boots, though. A new pair of breeches wouldn’t hurt either, and his silver sword broke in half whilst fighting a particularly vicious griffin a few weeks back.

Geralt didn’t even mention all of this to Jaskier. That didn’t stop the bard from going ahead and commissioning a brand new suit of armour, new silver and steel swords, as well as a few casual clothes for Geralt to wear on the warmer summer days. All of this must have cost an arm, a leg and a fucking lung, and yet Jaskier acted like he didn’t just break the bank all for Geralt’s benefit. He didn’t even get anything for himself and that realisation had Geralt feeling slightly embarrassed about the gesture.

“You don’t have to buy me all this stuff, Jask.”

“I know that, dearest,” Jaskier assured him, eyes soft and an easy smile playing on his lips, “but I wanted to. Only the best for you, my sweet witcher.”

The mystery of where Jaskier managed to find the coin to pay for all this remains unsolved, despite Geralt’s questioning. Well, if Jaskier won’t outright tell him, then Geralt will just have to investigate the matter by himself.

"Where the fuck did you get your hand on all the coin to pay for all this?" Geralt asks one evening, blunt and straight to the point. There was probably a kinder and gentler way to ask this, but after spending weeks mulling over Jaskier's sudden new-found fortune, Geralt has lost the little patience he possessed in the matter. Jaskier, on the other hand, looks perfectly unperturbed.

"From the bank," he offers simply as he sprinkles expensive herbs over the hare Geralt caught earlier that evening, "you know, where people deposit their valuables? I know you witchers don't believe in bank accounts, savings and interests, but-"

"Where does the coin come from?" Geralt interrupts, hissing those words through clenched teeth.

"Why, my inheritance."

Geralt stares for a long while. It takes his brain several seconds to catch up to what Jaskier is telling him, and another few seconds to make sense of the words. Inheritance?

"What inheritance?"

"Well, when my father passed away he left me and my siblings a share of his wealth. That's how inheritance works. Say, pass me my satchel my dear, I think I have some more spices in there."

Geralt wordlessly hands Jaskier his satchel, still trying to process this new discovery. Come to think of it, Geralt knows precious little about Jaskier's family. Sure, that's probably on him for never asking, but Geralt has grown so used to Jaskier oversharing every aspect of his life that he never needed to ask his bard anything. Jaskier just… never talked about his family. Or his childhood, or his upbringing. His life story seems to always begin when he was a student at Oxenfurt.

Geralt is growing curiouser by the minute.

"When did your father pass?"

"Oh? Uh… good question. Maybe a few years after I went to Oxenfurt? I'm not sure. I received a letter from the bank notifying me that a share of my father's wealth was deposited in my account."

Geralt frowns. "You never went back to find out what happened?"

"No."

Well, that's an oddly abrupt response, and Jaskier doesn't seem like he's got anything to say on the matter. Which only makes Geralt feel more curious about the whole thing.

"Why not?"

"Geralt…" Jaskier heaves a sigh before putting on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, too tense to be genuine. "My father and I didn't get along. I felt no need to go mourn him with the rest of my noble family in Lettenhove when he passed. That's it. That's all there's to it. I was not a good enough man to refuse my share of the inheritance, either, despite my non-existent relationship with him."

That's a lot to unpack. Geralt always assumed that Jaskier had a good childhood. Then again, he would think that, wouldn't he, considering Geralt spent his own childhood being tortured by magnanimous and sadistic mages. Where most children got to spend time outside helping out in the fields or playing with their friends, Geralt was put through drill after drill, after drill… until he was physically unable to walk so much his muscles hurt.

"Wait… did you say your noble family?"

"Hm?"

"In Lettenhove… there's nothing in Lettenhove. Only the Viscount and his family live there on a large esta-" Geralt's mouth clicks shut as realisation dawns on him. "Your father was the Viscount of Lettenhove?"

"Yes. And since I'm the oldest, after he died that title passed onto me. But I much prefer being a bard, so I graciously devolved my duties to my younger brother, who now manages the estate. Are we done with this conversation?"

"I didn't mean to make you mad…"

Geralt watches Jaskier stop dead in his tracks, his shoulders briefly tensing at those words, before exhaling loudly through his nose. Jaskier anxiously rubs the back of his neck as he straightens up and offers Geralt a sheepish smile, that one warmer and softer than the previous one.

"Sorry, dear heart. I didn't mean to be so short with you. It's just… well, there's a reason I don't bring up my family all that much."

"Hm." Geralt gently taps the spot next to him on his bedroll, and Jaskier doesn't have to be told twice. Soon, Geralt has one arm wound tightly around Jaskier's shoulders. Not quite a hug, but the intention is there all the same, and Jaskier eagerly melts in the embrace. "I shouldn't have insisted. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. You did nothing wrong." Jaskier nuzzles the crook of Geralt's neck sweetly before depositing a featherlight kiss just over his pulse point. "Do you want to ask me anything?"

Geralt ponders over that question far too long before whispering an answer in the air pocket between them.

"Did he hurt you?"

Jaskier hesitates.

"Not physically, no. He didn't approve of my aspirations and choices. He didn't support me. I suppose it hurt a little when he didn't see me away to Oxenfurt at the age of 15, but he never raised a hand on me."

"Hm." Good, Geralt thinks. No child should ever have to suffer at the hand of an adult. Geralt earned plenty a beating at Kaer Morhen, some justified and others not so much. Just because he went through this doesn't mean he condones it.

"At least I get to spend his money on someone I love," Jaskier offers softly, eyes as blue as the deepest ocean glancing up at Geralt through dark lashes, “That, at least, the old man can’t take away from me.”

A happy little rumble bubbles up Geralt's chest, despite the blush gracing his cheeks.

"I never thanked you for the gifts." Geralt blushes a deeper shade of red at the realisation. "Sorry. It's been a long year."

"Well, good thing we're heading North soon then, hm?" Jaskier straightens up so he can cradle Geralt's face in his lute-calloused hands. Their eyes meet then, amber seeking out blue, and Geralt thinks that he must be the luckiest son of a bitch in all the Continent.

"Yes," he agrees in a whisper, tilting his face to place a kiss on the inside of Jaskier's wrist, "good thing, indeed."

Request a prompt

#havenwrites #the witcher #wiedzmin #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher geralt #geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #dandelion #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #jaskier/geralt #dandelion x geralt #geralt/dandelion #request open

[mywritingonlyfans]

i like the idea of thomas for the dad/christmas fic 🥺

heeey!!! thanks for comment on it again!!! once again, i'm sorry for not writing that one with the person 'we' mentioned first😅 hope u like it!

-> dad!thomas raggi x reader

prompt: in which, dad!thomas is bit late for xmas to see his little girl! bonus. he teaching his little girl how to play the guitar!

warnings: none, just the good stuff today!! oh, we actually talk more about the 'finals' holiday than xmas itself on here so i hope it doesnt be too awkward for people who don't celebrate it.

-------------------++++----------------

You closed the fairytale book, putting it in its place on the shelf, and then tidied the blanket to cover Alice better. One of her arms was on her new guitar, which Santa Claus had left for her at Thomas's mother’s house; and by Santa you meant Thomas. She was so happy at the moment that you couldn't wait to show him the video. 

 Despise this, the smile on her face hadn't lasted long, you didn't know if everyone could see that she looked sad or if it was something maternal that warned you about it. She was asleep, and even though you could tell she was heartbroken, her long eyelashes rested under the freckles of her chubby face; appearing to be all agitated - she had not cried, but you knew she had held back her tears while you put her to sleep. You didn't blame her, you missed him, too. 

 You hugged your torso, wanting to stay there with her, you didn't feel like going to sleep knowing that he wasn’t home for Christmas. When you looked at her again, with her sad little face, you suddenly felt bad for not thinking about letting her sleep with you; since she liked it when you let her stay in Thomas’s side of the bed when he wasn’t around.

“I love you, angel,” you whispered, brushing her hair away from her face and placing a kiss on the prominent freckles on her nose. She mumbled something you couldn't understand, and smiling silly at your girl, you took her purrs as your cue to make your way to the kicthen.

You hummed one of Thomas’s band songs to yourself after you checked that there was no messages or new call on it. He promised he would at least contact you, and as long as you are together he never was one to broke his promises; so what you could do was wait. 

 It was the first Christmas after you had Alice that he hadn't been able to come back home on time. And as much as you told him that you understood and that everything would be fine, which was true, you couldn't deny how much you missed him.

You kept the leftovers Alice had begged her grandmother to give her on the frigde, remembering how she had planned on eating it with Thomas when he got home. Glad pleased, you could imagine how happy he’d be that she thought about doing it for him. Just when your mind was ready to get lost in a scenario where Thomas would be home for the Holidays, the vibrations of your phone interrupted you.

“Hey, babe. Merry Christmas!” You said excitedly. It was him, he wouln’t forget of you. It was late at night and you had no idea what time it was for him, but still he called. 

“Merry Christmas, babe,” He said in a slurred, almost inaudible voice. He looked a bit sapped and busy.

“It's not a good time, right? I can call you later if you can’t speak right now or are feeling too tired,”

“Nah, it’s fine,” He assured, a bit breathless, getting clearer over the phone. “How was your day? How’s Alice? God, I missed you,”

“It was good,” you sighed, thinking about being cheeky and adding that it would have been better with him, yet you were afraid that it might make him feel worse. “Alice is fine too. She loved the guitar, you will love to see it. I filmed everything, she didn’t stop jumping with it in her arms, telling your parents how it was just like the one his dad have. She misses you so much, Thommy, and I think she’s learning how to deal with it.”

“She’s learning...” he repeated. “I wish she didn't need to learn to deal with me being away from her,”

“Don’t say that, I made a bad choice of words, you know she loves you and she loves even more the way you love her extra when you’re back. She understands, Thomas,”

“She’s 5 years old, Y/N,”

You let the silence fill the chasm between you. You felt how sad he was, he had been away for a long time because of the turns before, still he always managed to return for the special dates - just as he had promised when Alice was born - but this time, well, this time it wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured and you visualized in your head his eyebrows furrowing as his hand ran agonizingly through his hair, just as he always do when he‘s feeling in low spirits. “You’re right. I should be focusing on the good things, soon I’ll be home, I’m gonna teach her to play the guitar, show her all my love and be the best dad in the world,”

You laughed at his abrupt change in mood mixed with a hint of himself. “I know you will, babe,”

“I’m gonna be the best boyfriend too,” he would give continuity to his words when a loud noise of something falling stopped him abruptly.

“What was it?” You asked. You made it clear that you were suspicious, and by his nervous laugh he knew that. After all, what would he say about the noise that seemed to have come from the room next to where you were? “Oh my god, Thomas, that can’t be you.”

He didn't even need to answer, the sound of your steps going on his way was enough for him to know that you knew he was there, making him curse himself for being so clumsy. And just like in a flash, you were in his arms. He dropped his bag on the floor, giving you al of his attention as he squeezed your shape to his body.

“You’re here,” you bured your face on his chest, letting the feeling of comfort fill your nostrils, and then soul. “You’re really here.” You added in a breathless sigh.

Relief taking over his body as you snuggled into his frame, he grinned, “I promised that I would try my best to be with you all the special dates, didn't I?” He asked, holding your face so he could look at you properly. “Are you crying?”

You nodded at his soft voice. “I’m sorry,”

He laughed, a nasal sound that you missed so much. “It’s ok, 5 months is a long time,” He said, tracing kisses across your face. “I promise I’m gonna love you extra now.”

——————-

It was already possible to see the sun rissing outside, yet you refused to close your eyes and lose any moment with Thomas.

You rested your head on the pillow, waiting for him and thinking of how lucky you were that he managed to catch a last minute flight to spend the New Year at home. He was scheduled to return only after the first day of the year, somehow things would have worked out better than expected and he managed to get back sooner.

“She looks like an angel sleeping so calmly.” He spoke, lying beside you under the covers.

“I thought you were going to wake her up, she'll go crazy when she sees you.”

“I know,” He smiled, proud of himself. He knew she was the definition of daddy’s little girl. “I will wait until she wakes up. I'm dying to fill her with kisses and hugs.”

Still with his charming teeth and cute dimples on display, he pulled you to his chest, trying to wrap you in the blanket next to him. “She loves you. She doesn't care about the time you spend away, as long as you come back to her.” You nuzzled into his neck, squeezing him tighter as you said that. It was likely that this would happen more often, letting Thomas blame himself for that wouldn’t do him any good.

He bobbed, kissing your forehead, enlacing you with the same intensity. “I know, babe,”

“How was turn?” You asked, looking at him, making sure that he was fine. He was thoughtful, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

He told you about his gigs around the globe and you were happy feeling his body soften on your arms. His voice almost lulled you to sleep, but you were sure you would never tire of hearing him talk about what he loves. You showed him the video of Alice receiving the guitar, seeing his eyes fill with water after she said that she‘d be just like her father made your chest almost explode with love. In the best possible way, of course.

“You can sleep if you want, babe.”

“No, I want to spend more time with you.”

“I’m here, I am not intending to go anywhere.” He patted your hair, rubbing his nose through your hairline, and the last thing you remembered was feeling his lips on your temple.

When you opened your eyes again, he was no longer there. You rubbed your eyes tight, trying to adjust to the light, wondering if there was any possibility that it might have been a dream, but then a sweet chuckle brought you back to reality.

Alice was standing in front of you, with the guitar resting awkwardly on her shoulders. Her eyes went from you to Thomas, as if asking him if everything was all right. You smirked lightly at her features that looked the same as Thomas's.

She started playing something, which looked incredibly bad, Thomas wrinkled his nose in an attempt not to laugh so as not to discourage her. He should have spent a lot of time helping her, and she looked like she was trying. Her lips was between her teeth as she concentrated to play her less than a minute of song was so cute that as much as you didn't understand a thing, you couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

“It’s Vent'anni,” Thomas mouthed, waving his hand in a way that would get your attention but not hers. “It’s Vent'anni.”

“Oh my god!” You opened your arms for her as she finished playing, watching you with her excited eyes. “It’s Vent'anni.”

She grinned from ear to ear, handing Thomas the guitar, and then jumping into your arms.

“Did you like this?” She asked happily, making ‘this’ sound like ‘dis’. “It’s not perfect but I’ll get better, right dad?”

“Yes, better than Damiano trying to play It!" Thomas confirmed, stroking her back as he approached you. “Good mornin’, love.” he kissed the top of your head.

“I love you,” you kissed his cheek, wishing he could feel how much you love him. “And I love you too, little one,” you mumbled, pinching Alice’s nose, which eyes was stuck on the two of you.

She laughed, her gaze still on you and Thomas. She looked like a completely different person from the night before.

“Dad said you look cute when you're tired.”

You knew that you looked tired, the day before wasn’t the best and you had barely slept. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at Thomas who had a silly smile playing on his lips and felt your cheeks get hotter. The reason you still felt that way when he complimented you was a mystery, you liked it anyway.

“You are a gossip little thing,” Thomas joked, poking at her sides.

“No, I’m not.” She laughed, trying to run away from him flawlessly, letting him hug her as she recovered her breath.

“I love you too, both of you,” she pointed a finger at both of you. Thomas's smile was priceless, you could live in there forever. “but can we play more guitar now, please?”

You agreed and Thomas got up to sit upright, putting her between his legs. He looked at you, his face still radiant, you could easily imagine him talking about you with Alice - just like you did talk about him with her as well. He positioned her tiny hands on the guitar, guiding then with his own fingers. His gentle, patient voice teaching her things that both knew she would soon forget and he would have to repeat it all over again - and you knew Thomas would do it without a problem - was lovely to watch. Her head was resting on his chest and whenever she hit a note and heard Thomas praising her, she would turn to you and say "see mom, I did it.” And you swear that you couldn't be happier to have found the meaning of the word home in two of your favorite people in the world.

#maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi imagines #fanfic #ethan torchio #imagines #fiction #maneskin x reader #måneskin #writing #damiano david #thomas gives me so much of the cuddler vibes just want to lay down and die in bed with him.

[iamwhoami]

Amazing (One Chicago)

One Chicago

Connor Rhodes knows just what to say to Y/N after Sean Roman breaks up with her.

Warnings: Heartbreak?

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

"Are we still up for tonight?" You tilted your head to keep the phone wedged in between your ear and shoulder.

"I don't know..." Sean's voice cracked through the phone and you realized that he was actually outside, "Not sure when I'll get off tonight."

You pursed your lips but understood where Sean was coming from. You both worked long shifts at strange hours so finding time where neither were working was a challenging task.

"Okay, well just keep me posted," You said and you heard Sean chuckle.

"Will do."

Sean hung up and you sighed, unable to ignore the strange twisty feeling in your gut. Something felt wrong, but you couldn't understand why.

You didn't have time to dwell on it long though as Maggie called you and Dr. Rhodes over for an incoming trauma.

~~~

It had been a terrible day. You had lost not only one, but two of your patients today. Logically, you knew that it wasn't your fault, that their injuries were just too severe.

That didn't make it hurt any less though.

All you wanted to do was go home and snuggle Sean on the couch while a cheesy romantic movie played on the TV.

Despite this though, you found yourself standing outside the hospital, not making any move to get into your car and drive yourself home.

The cool air felt good against your skin and you let out a huff of air, watching the misty fog escape your mouth.

"Rough day huh..."

You turned your head to see Connor approach to stand next to you.

"Yeah..." You took a deep breath, "You could say that."

Connor shoved his hand into his pockets, watching the cars pull out of the parking lot and drive away with you.

"You're just going to stand here?" Connor asked, "After the day we've had?"

You chuckled softly, "I guess I am..."

"Is everything going okay with you and that cop?" Connor's voice was slightly strained.

You nodded, "Yeah...yeah it's nothing like that...I'm just reflecting today I guess."

"As we all should," Connor agreed, "Well, you have yourself a good night Y/L/N."

You smiled, "You too."

And with that, Connor turned around and left.

~~~

You left shortly after Connor did, the cold air getting to you. When you got back to your apartment, you sat in your car for another five minutes, your brain a mush of thoughts.

Completely exhausted, you trudged to the elevator, subconsciously pressing the button to your floor.

Fumbling with your keys, you searched for the right one before jabbing it into the apartment door.

"I'm home!" You tiredly called out as you entered, tossing your bag aside, "Man, has it been a rough day."

You weren't sure what you were expecting to see but it wasn't Sean standing there, a very serious expression on his face.

"Are you breaking up with me?" You joked, sliding off your shoes and hanging up your coat.

You meant it as a joke. A joke. It had been a long day and you were trying to lighten your mood.

The colour drained from your face though when you saw the look on Sean's face, "No...you're kidding."

"Y/N," Sean started and you immediately knew what was going to happen by his tone.

"What?" Your voice was barely audible but it could be heard, "Why?"

Sean shook his head, "It's not you Y/N...I just-"

"Save it," You put up your hand, "I've had quite the day Sean...I don't want to hear the reasons right now."

You weren't sure what you wanted Sean to say. Maybe you wanted him to fight you. To still show that he still had some love for you.

He didn't though.

With an awkward nod, Sean walked towards the door and just like that, he was gone.

You didn't realize it was possible, but you were even more drained and exhausted than before and as you collapsed on the couch, you realized just how shitty today was.

Maybe you should have been feeling heartbroken, maybe you should have been feeling hurt. You weren't though.

You were just tired.

~~~

The heartbreak set in the next morning, after you had a well-rested night.

You had woken up and rolled over, still expecting to feel the warmth coming from Sean's body.

What you felt instead was empty sheets.

Your heart ached and you seriously contemplated calling in sick. You couldn't understand why Sean would break up with you and though you did regret not letting him explain the night before, you sure weren't going to call him to ask.

If he wanted to end things then fine.

So be it.

Perhaps that was for the better that you still had to work today. At least you could keep yourself busy.

"Dr. Y/L/N!" Connor greeted you with a smile as you entered the ED, "I hope you good sleep because I could use another pair of eyes on one of my patients."

"Of course," You quickly agreed, this was just what you needed, "I would love to help."

Perfect.

~~~

"That was some great work in the OR today," Connor caught up with you on your way back to the ED, "Look, I totally get it if you don't want to, especially you know with Sean and stuff but I'd love to buy you a drink after shift. Just a celebratory one of course."

You chuckled softly, "Don't even worry about the celebratory emphasis. We broke up."

"Oh..." Connor stopped short, suddenly unsure of what to say. Did you need consolation? Maybe you were the one to break it off, "I"m sorry...I didn't know."

You waved it off, trying to seem indifferent, "Don't worry about it. The train of life moves on whether I'm on it or not, right?"

"Right..." Connor shifted awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"But I will gladly take up on your offer for a drink if it still stands," You tried to ease the tension.

Connor smiled, "Of course it still stands."

"I will meet you at Molly's after shift then," You cracked a grin and Connor's smile broadened.

"Sounds good."

~~~

You tugged your jacket closer around your body as you walked from your car to Molly's.

You weren't sure why, but for some reason, your heart thumped nervously against your chest. This wasn't some date or anything.

Just a celebratory drink to celebrate a successful surgery.

When you walked into Molly's, the first thing you saw was Herrmann and Kidd from 51 talking to Will and Natalie at the bar.

Then you saw Sean...and then Kim.

You were a little hurt and maybe a little envious seeing Kim cozying up to Sean like that. His arm was wrapped around her frame protectively and your heart skipped a beat when you remembered how he used to do that with you.

"Y/N!"

You turned your head to where your name came from and a smile graced your face when you saw Connor waving you over

"I'm glad you showed up," Connor said as you walked over and checked his watch, "I was beginning to worry that you had changed your mind and I would have to drink alone."

"Don't worry," You laughed, "I wouldn't leave you hanging like that."

Connor dipped his head and raised his glass slightly, "Good to know."

You slid onto the stool and within moments, Herrmann was asking you what you wanted to drink.

You ordered and when Connor told Herrmann to add it to his, you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from protesting after Connor shot you a no-nonsense glare.

Once you had your drink, Connor began talking but truthfully, you weren't listening much, just nodding along. Your eyes kept trailing away from Connor, sneaking glances at Sean and Kim together as they laughed at something Natalie had said.

"You know, I wouldn't take it personally if you wanted to call it a night," Connor's voice suddenly broke through your trance, "It has been a long day."

You blushed sheepishly, "I'm sorry-"

"No need," Connor cut you off, "I'm sure we have all felt heartbreak before."

"I know..." You nodded, "It's just...it was so abrupt...I don't know what happened? How did I not notice that things weren't right? That it had gotten to the point where Sean wanted to end it?"

Connor shrugged, "Does it matter now?"

His words caught you off guard. You weren't sure what to say. Honestly, you weren't even completely sure what he meant.

"I mean, why stress on it now," Connor clarified, picking his words carefully, "You're smart, kind, caring...not to mention a talented surgeon...he's an idiot to pass up on someone like you."

You smiled softly, "Thank you..."

"It's the truth," Connor took another gulp of his drink, "It's his loss if you ask me."

From the corner of your eye, you saw Sean glance over at you and you could tell that he was watching you. You ignored him though, knowing he didn't deserve the worth of your time.

"I am really glad I took you up on this," You raised your drink a little, "Now...can we just talk about how amazing we were today in the OR?"

#chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #chicago med x reader #chicago med #chicago med imagines #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagines #connor rhodes imagine #chicago pd x reader

[sugakoni]

Fic request please🤗

Daddy Heis is an angsty trash man because he has feelings for y/n but doesn’t think she feels the same.

He think she sticks around because she was more or less forced to become his assistant when she got captured by mother Miranda (y/n got lost, somehow ended up in the village and Miranda gave her to Karl to decide her fate).

Karl gets colder and distant towards y/n because the feelings freak him out.

Y/n gets sick of his shit. There’s shouting, helluva lot of tension that ends in him grabbing y/n and kissing her.

(maybe some rough, passionate smut 👉🏻🥺👈🏻 too)

(a/n): i saw this request last night and i literally needed to write it asap. so,,, here that is. teehee. thank you, anon!

warnings: porn with some plot. this is basically just pure smut after their argument. karl doing something with his cigar. praise. degradation. this was so fun to write.

word count: 2318

pairing: karl heisenberg x fem!reader

one-shot under the cut (heis simps, eat up.)

His somewhat desolate life was disrupted by your abrupt intrusion, though you were given to him under Miranda’s orders to decide your fate, the man seemed to differ from the people he called his brother and sisters. He kept you around, making you an assistant to his creations. But, he couldn’t help but admit his feelings towards you were somewhat more than… professional.

Karl thought he was crazy for feeling this way, feeling as if he knew the answer that he forever longed for from you. You were only there to help him, to survive. Surely, you had no mutual feelings towards him, which made him grow distant.

Any time you waltzed your way into his work room for the day from your room that he made you, his eyebrows would be tightly knit in a slight annoyance. He couldn’t stand to be around you with these nagging feelings, and just hearing your voice made it even worse.

Today, it was no different.

You had made your way into his workroom, a good morning leaving your lips in a sing-song tone. He gave you a small, dismissive wave, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

To you, this sudden distance and cold response from the man you were supposed to work with seemed harsh. You felt like you had done something wrong, but he would’ve told you if you did. Your heart stung, thinking about your own feelings towards the man. You stood beside him, arms crossed, and he didn’t even bother to look over at you.

A huff left you, which caused him to finally glance up. You looked at the pictures in front of you, anger prominent in your face as he studied you. You slammed your fists on the table, and Karl didn’t even budge, just rolling his eyes in response.

“What the fuck is wrong?! What did I do?!” You exclaimed, looking over at him. Karl threw what he was working on onto the table in front of you, a loud clunk being hard once it hit. You jumped, watching him forcibly take off his gloves and put them to the side.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replied, now facing you fully. You turned your own body, hands moving as you spoke.

“You have been cold, distant, and honestly a douchebag. What the fuck did I do to make you want to treat me like this?!” You yelled at him again. His own face then scowled in anger, before he moved to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I asked you a question! What did I do! What can I do to fix it?” You whined a bit as you spoke, everything coming out as a plea. Karl just stood there, trying to think of what to say.

“What can I do!”

“Would you just shut the fuck up?!” Karl snapped, which caused you to wince a bit.

You blinked back the tears that formed in your eyes at his sudden choice of words, glancing away as the tension grew in the room. It felt hot, heavy, and certainly uncomfortable. You played with a stray hem in your jeans pocket.

“You are fucking annoying. I took you in to help me, and now I am stuck here with these feelings I know you will never give back,” Karl admitted. You snapped your head back at him.

“So your response is to be cold and now you call me annoying?!”

You had to admit, him saying that he had the same feelings for you as you did him really lifted a weight off of your shoulders. But, the way he was going about it was testing your patience. You bit at your tongue.

“Yes! You come in here everyday, with a smile on your face, telling me good morning n’ all that shit. And ya don’t like me, so every fucking time I hear it, it pisses me off,” Karl threw his glasses onto the table as well.

You pursed your lips together.

“You’re stupid.”

“What’d you just call me?”

“You. Are. Stupid,” You repeated, pointing a finger at him. He immediately grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and pressing his lips against yours. You melted under his touch, brain going 100 miles per hour as you kissed him back.

The kiss was rough, teeth clashing together as you two stood there. A moan left your lips at the feeling, which caused Karl to press his tongue against yours. You gasped at the feeling, the taste of a cigar he must’ve had moments prior to you coming in still lingered.

He pulled away after a while, breathing heavy. Your own chest rose up and down with his own, Karl’s eyes flickering all over your face before pulling you in again. The grip on your wrist left, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Kissing him back with such passion, your hands knocking his hat off of his head. He grunted against your lips, moving his hands down to cup your thighs, picking you up, and setting you on the table.

Karl was in between your legs, his hips pressing against your core. The two of you never broke contact with each other, his hands rubbing against your sides, occasionally going up to grasp at your breasts through your shirt. You pulled away to breathe again, looking into his eyes as he looked into yours.

You wrapped a hand around the assortment of things hanging around his neck, pulling him flushed against your chest, your lips against his ear.

“Fuck me, Karl. Fuck. Me.” You whispered, and it caused a small shiver to go down his spine, but he kept his composure.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he chuckled lowly, the sound going straight to your panties. You smirked a bit at his reaction, pulling away slightly before he loved to grasp the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair and pulling your head back forcefully.

“You think it’s funny to be a little bitch like that, huh?”

You whimpered, biting at your lip but a small smile was on your face. He tsked, going to kiss at your neck. Biting harshly against your delicate skin, but it wasn’t enough to draw blood. You gasped at the sensation, and he lowly mumbled a “mine” against you. You tried to clench your thighs together, but that ended up making your legs press harsh against his hips.

Karl smirked to himself, moving to remove your shirt. Your bra did barely nothing to cover you, your nipples perked slightly through the thin material. He moved to pinch at one of them, which made you arch your back into his chest.

Karl moved his hand away from your hair, that hand going to the button of your jeans. You blushed, feeling him unbutton it and unzip the zipper.

“Off.”

You obliged, moving to tug your jeans off. He glanced down, seeing that your panties were absolutely soaked. Karl placed his hand against your core, which caused you to shiver.

“Look at ya… all needy for me, makes you regret saying what you said, hm?” Karl asked, glancing up to see your face. Your mouth was slightly open, breathing a bit shallowly in thought.

“I asked you a question.”

You bit at your lip as the tips of three of his fingers began to rub your clit through your panties, a soft whimper leaving the back of your throat.

“Y-yes… It really does,” you whispered.

He hummed at the response, pushing your garment to the side to expose your folds. A blush painted your skin, before a moan erupted from you when he slid the three fingers into you that were just rubbing into your clit. They stretched you slightly, and Karl grinned at the way you reacted.

His other hand pulled your bra off of your breasts, leaving it on but exposing your chest to the air in the room. Karl groped your tit for a moment, fingers curling in your pussy which caused you to gasp. Soon, the hand was on your jaw, forcing your head down.

“See how wet you are for me? How your pretty little cunt is just begging me to fuck it? You really think I’m stupid?” He spoke. You whimpered, squirming a bit as his fingers pressed up against your sweet spot.

“Fuck.. no, I-I don’t… you just don’t think I-I like you and I do… Christ, Karl, keep moving your fingers,” you begged, starting to rock your hips against the fingers in you. He immediately grabbed your hips, forcing you to stop.

“Did I fucking say you could move?”

You whined, screwing your eyes shut as he started to thrust his fingers into you at a rough, fast pace. His hand traveled up to your neck, wrapping around it and applying a bit of pressure. Your eyes stayed glued to his face.

You took in every bit of him in this moment, how he had a small smirk against his lips, a slight bit of sweat on his forehead as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy. A groan left your lips, clenching around him which caused him to laugh a bit.

“Such a needy bitch. Ya wanna cum?”

You gave a nod, and he pulled his fingers out of you as soon as you gave your response. Your nose scrunched up in slight annoyance, and he released your throat from his grip. A prominent mark from his hand.

“What the fuck?!” You whined out, shaking a bit from the lack of a climax you had reached.

Karl moved to unbuckle his belt, undoing the zipper of his pants and moving to pull his cock out. It was hard, the tip glistening in pre-cum. He gave it a few pumps, a soft grunt leaving him.

You bit at your lip, watching him for a moment before he looked up at you. He pulled a chair up, sitting down on it and patting his lap. You shakily got up off of the table, your slick sticking to your thighs. You moved to straddle his waist, his cock nudging against your aching core.

Karl huffed out, going to grab a cigar from the pocket in his shirt and pressing it in between his lips. He lit it up, his other hand against your thigh, gripping harshly at the skin.

“C’mon darlin’. Get goin.”

You gave a nod, moving to press the tip of his cock against your entrance. You slid down, gasping at how he stretched you out in the best of ways. Karl grunted, smoke leaving his lips and hitting you in the face. You started to move your hips, your hands on pressed against his chest.

Tiny gasps kept left your lips, echoing in the room. Karl continued to smoke, watching as you bounced up and down on his cock. Taking in the sight, your breasts slightly going up and down as you moved.

“Ohhh. Look at ya… my little whore, getting off on my cock,” he hummed, moving to press the tip of his cigar against the skin of your stomach. A sharp gasp left you, the pain mixing with the pleasure that you felt. The tip of his cock pressed against your sweet spot, causing you to mewl out.

“So pretty… So so pretty,” he slightly praised, putting the cigar back in his mouth. Karl moved his hands to your hips, halting your movements before he began to thrust up into you.

You cried out, your high from earlier creeping up. You gasped, a thin layer of sweat on your body as you grasped harshly onto his shirt. Karl hummed, the occasional cloud of smoke leaving from his nose. He grunted harshly at how your pussy clenched around him, before pulling you off of his cock, halting your release yet again.

“Karl!” You let out. He moved to make you stand up, placing his cigar on the ashtray on the table. Karl turned you around, bending you over the desk in a sudden swift motion. You pressed your cheek against the cool metal of the table, shuddering as his finger swiftly went up your folds.

He stayed silent, his tip replacing his finger, grabbing his cigar again and placing the tip on the skin of your back. You seethed at the pain, moving your hips back and his cock began to slightly fill you up. Karl bit at his lip, placing the cigar down again and slamming the rest of himself into your aching pussy.

“Fuck!” You cried, and he started to thrust in and out of you at a quick pace. The sounds of his skin slapping slightly against yours filled your ears, your eyes screwed shut as ecstasy filled your body. Release already wanting to hit, and you groaned loudly as soon as your pussy clenched around him, cumming all over.

Karl let out a chuckle, still thrusting as you rode out your high. Whines and whimpers left your mouth, before you felt him release inside of you. The warmth of his seed wanted you to beg for more, but you knew you were slightly spent. Karl’s breathing was heavy as he pulled out, your cum mixed with his dripping from your cunt.

“I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” he whispered, helping you stand back up straight.

You looked back at him, a tired smile on your face as you sighed out. You fixed your bra, grabbing the rag he offered you and wiping the cum that dripped. He watched you, not knowing what to do to help, before handing you your clothes after he got his pants and boxers situated.

“It always has been,” you responded as you put your clothes on. Your hair was a mess, your face still red and ecstasy still laced in your words. Karl smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Good.”

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg smut #heisenberg #lord heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #smut #this is smut #pwp fic #requests

[ilydenji]

Please do a pt 2 of toxic traits that had kenma, kageyama, and Tsukishima. Please make it fluff in the end🥺. I loved it

❝toxic pt. 2❞

↳haikyuu boys toxic traits part two

characters: kenma kozume, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei

warnings/tw: toxic relationships

a/n: I'm so glad you loved the first one !! I hope this is good enough afndjsmsj

(this kinda long sorry lmfoaodjrnf)

part one here

kenma ;

-its been a few weeks since the two of you had talked properly.

-you did what he wanted, you had broken up with him.

-it felt weird going back to your regular life as if nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend half a year with him.

-it did hurt when you realized he didn't even care. that day when you walked away from him, you doubted that he gave it a second thought.

-but, unknowingly, the whole situation was slowly eating kenma up with guilt.

-after your breakup, he briefly had talked about it with kuroo and that’s when he realized how much of an asshole he really was.

-he missed it when you watched him practice, apparently, the other members of his team did too.

-“where’s y/n? are they okay?” lev would ask the most.

-“they broke up idiot- if you’re wondering how they are ask them yourself” of course, yaku would hit him for even mentioning them.

-up until now, kenma never noticed the little things that you did for him. how you would praise his hard work after practice or a game.

-how you would softly comb your fingers through his hair while playing games. or how you would bring him lunch every day in case he forgot to eat.

-not only that, but he started missing the little things about you as well.

-how your nose would scrunch up when you laughed,

-when you would hold his hand, you’d always rub circles on his thumb.

-how you would hum when playing with his hair.

-all those things, why hasn’t he realized them before? why did he let you go?

-why did he hurt you so bad?

-he wanted to— no, he needed to apologize to you.

-he wanted to be with you again, though he didn’t really think he deserved you anymore.

-he wanted to try anyway.

-you received a text from him in the afternoon. you were hesitant to answer. what could he be asking for? his hoodie that he left a month ago?

-when you finally decided to answer it, it read-

-“Can I please talk to you.”

-he wanted to talk now? he had a chance weeks ago. months even.

-you just sighed and texted back saying yes. he asked if he could come over and you agreed, maybe things would end off on a better note? you’d be lying if you said you didn't miss him.

-when kenma came over, he looked different than how he usually did. he didn't have his psp and he didn't use his phone once.

-he slowly walked to your bed and motioned you to sit next to him.

-“I’ve been a big fucking asshole to you, y/n. I'm so sorry I treated you like that.” he would start.

-he ended up apologizing for everything and told you he never realized how much care relationships need.

-“you deserve so much better. it’s selfish of me to even consider the fact you’d take me back but. I missed you a lot, I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

-you wanted to be with him again, to hold him and tell him it’s alright.

-instead, you rest your hand on his shoulder with a squeeze.

-“it's okay, it’s fine. I messed up along the way as well.” you’d start. kenma kept the same stoic expression he usually had. but you can tell in his eyes, he was hopeful.

-“but maybe we don’t belong in a relationship. maybe not yet at least.”

-kenma understood what you meant.

-in the end, the two of you had agreed that to ever get back into a relationship again he had to work on letting himself be vulnerable around you.

-he had promised to be better for you, and wait until you were ready to be with him again. although you had promised to be with him sometime in the future, the pang in his chest didn't fully go away.

-the day ended with him in your arms, comforting him.

-his arms were wrapped around you, his head in the crook of your neck.

-“kenma, I still love you. you know that right?”

-kenma didn't exactly answer. instead, he pulled you closer to him. you could feel his smile against your neck.

-you both still loved each other but decided to take it slow this time. not wanting to hurt each other.

kageyama ;

(reader is into photography bc that's the only thing I could think of I'm sorry lfmsoakedjdnsn)

-it’s been a few days since his last game, where he basically told you that you “clearly didn’t love him”

-in those few days, kageyama couldn’t explain what he was feeling.

-he always had trouble expressing his emotions. so he often ignored them.

-but this time, there was a pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. whenever he looked at his phone he would be tempted to call you.

-he wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea, but the silence was killing him.

-one day during practice he had asked hinata if he had seen you.

-hinata nodded and told him you were out in the courtyard doing club activities.

-kageyama didn't know you were in a club? though, he hardly payed any attention to that stuff.

-he wondered how he could be so clueless, you two have been together for months.

-that day, he skipped practice. that on its own was a whole different story.

-he managed to find you outside, taking pictures of the flowers and anything remotely interesting you could find.

-but no matter how mundane, kageyama didn't fail to notice the smile you had.

-he recognized that look in your eye, that was the look he had whenever it came to volleyball. how could he have not realized how happy your little hobby made you?

-he wanted you to be happy, to see you smile with so much passion like that.

-kageyama approached you cautiously, trying not to scare you.

-“what do you want kageyama?” you started. it startled him a little.

-you didn't need to turn around for you to know he was there. hinata had texted you that kageyama was coming, of course.

-“Nothing... I just.. missed you I guess” he sat down next to you. neither of you had talked, it became awkward fast.

-“so... you like photography? I didn’t know”

-“of course you wouldn't.”

-kageyama cringed at the words. you weren’t wrong in the slightest, he had been ignoring your interests for the longest and he feels like such an ass for it.

-“I'm sorry for not paying attention” he stated. you nodded at his words. but that wasn’t enough for him.

-“I should’ve payed more attention to you, it’s my fault I got so caught up in my own head” still, you didn’t say anything but you did turn your attention to him. progress he thought.

-“I should’ve realized that this, is just as important to you as volleyball is to me.” he rested his hand on top of yours. in return, you squeezed his a little. he smiled softly.

-“I’ll give you more of my attention from now on. okay? I'm sorry y/n. I love you, I really do.” he finished. and that’s what you wanted to hear.

-you wanted him to acknowledge his wrongs and apologize. you knew kageyama struggled with his emotions sometimes but he would eventually come around.

-you rested your head on his shoulder.

-“did you really skip practice for me?”

-“of course I did”

-by the end of the day, kageyama had learned that relationships aren’t just a one-sided thing. that you cant constantly be supporting him without him supporting you.

-he promised to you that no matter what it is that you would do, he would be right by your side cheering you on.

tsukishima ;

-the days had turned to weeks, and tsukishima was barely paying any attention to you. after your little fight, it was clear that he wouldn’t say a word until you said something first.

-but you were scared to.

-how could you not be? his teasing crushed your self-esteem.

-you would notice things about yourself that you never saw before. picking at your skin for the tiniest imperfections.

-or even trying to change your appearance in any way you could to seem different, but in the end, tsukishima didn't pay attention.

-but someone else did, yamaguchi. he was close to tsukishima and knew what was going on.

-he was the first one to comfort you after your fight with your boyfriend. he promised to you that the things he said weren’t true and he never meant it.

-yamaguchi was slowly replacing tsukishima as the days went by. still, the two of you remained friends.

-“I think you should talk to him, y/n. he misses you I know it” he told you one day. he was on his way to practice and asked you to come with.

-you didn't know if that was really true but you decided to put your trust into him.

-instead of going into the gym yourself, you waited for practice to end nearby. you didn't want to be a distraction.

-when practice did end, tsukishima and yamaguchi ended up being the first ones to come out. yamaguchi was smiling as he yelled out for you. tsukishima stayed silent.

-walking towards the two made your anxiety rise. it was nerve-wracking honestly.

-the three of you ended up walking to the gate before yamaguchi told you that he had somewhere to go first and he’d meet you two later.

-after that, it was just the two of you. you noticed how although his house was in the opposite direction, he still walked with you. you smiled a little at that.

-“So what’s up with you and yamaguchi?” he said bluntly. the abrupt interaction kinda scared you a little.

-“Nothing, we’re just friends. why?”

-“nothing. I just don't like seeing you all friendly with him.”

-“Are you jealous?”

-“I guess so”

-his words were so blunt it left you confused.

-you asked him how he could say something like that when he’s been ignoring you for days. and not only that but just straight-up bully you.

-tsukishima stayed silent at that. he had stopped walking at this point, and so had you.

-“listen. I'm sorry for saying those things to you, I was just stressed and took that out on you. I never meant to hurt you y/n, I mean it” you knew tsukishima wasn't the type to talk so openly about how he felt.

-he probably meant it.

-it doesn’t take away the fact that it hurt you. you told him what his words had done to you, that you had tried to change yourself for his approval.

-at this, tsukishima brought you into a hug. he held you close to him, softly petting your hair.

-“I'm sorry y/n, I’m sorry for taking it too far, for making you think so low of yourself. I promise you I never thought those things about you, I was just mad. I should’ve never taken it out on you.”

-at this point, you didn't know if you should be happy about it or cry.

-“it hurt tsukki.” was all you said to him.

-“I know. I'm so sorry y/n, I understand if you cant forgive me.” he pulled away from you to move your hair away from your face, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

-“I understand that I’ve hurt you. you don't need to forgive me. but please know that I love you so much.”

-afterward, tsukki ended up walking you home, holding your hand the rest of the way.

-he knows things might not go back to being the same, but he’s willing to work on letting you past his walls, being nicer towards those he loves, you especially.

-you know old habits die hard and that relationships aren’t always easy. but this was a journey you both were willing to take. both learning from each other to make sure this never happens again.

——-

I'm really hoping this is okay uh- I tried to make this as wholesome as I could but continuing the theme from last time. I might have to just make fluff has for these three after HANDFJDNN (i’m also very sorry for my terrible english @(*$@*(24)

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kenma kozume #kenma #kenma x reader #kenma headcanons #kenma imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #kenma fluff #kenma angst #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama fluff #kageyama angst #kageyama headcanons #tsukishima kei #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagines #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima scenarios #PLS I FEEL LIKE I MESSED UP SOMEWHER HELP #st.asks

[no-droids]

The Floor is Better

Part Eight of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.4K i am. appalled.

Warnings: SMUT, very vague attempts at sprinkling in hints of an overarching plot, language, the slightest bit of angst, TONS OF FUCKING FLUFF WOWWWW

A/N: This is by far the softest smut I’ve ever written.  I will say that there is a hint at butt stuff tho (just a HINT—THERE IS NO ACTUAL BUTT STUFF IN THIS GUYS) so brace yourselves

***

Alright so this bed is, like.  Atrociously uncomfortable.

It’s not even a bed.  It’s a cot.  Just a bare minimum place to sleep, shoved into the wall and taking up less space than the ship’s armory.  Like a… like a really shitty gurney almost, except no padding.  So not even a gurney then, just a fucking.  Piece of metal.  Just a piece of fucking metal to sleep on.

There’s surprisingly a bit of space to maneuver yourself when you’re pulled into the cubby completely like this, and yeah, it’s quiet and dark in here but man does your back hurt.  Is his spine made of metal, too?  Is that why he prefers this?  The floor isn’t a feather mattress by any stretch of the imagination, but at least there aren’t any uneven support bars digging into your side.

You’re on Coruscant, and Mando’s been gone for over three weeks.

It.  Fucking.  Blows.

You’ve literally run out of ideas to occupy your time.  You’re far enough above Coruscant’s dangerous underworld to not worry about any potential… mishaps, like what happened on Corellia, but the only issue with the ground being so far below you is that it’s not like you can just stroll down the road and buy yourself a deck of cards at the nearest merchant.  The only shop within walking distance of this hub contains the bare essentials; things like food, medical equipment and bacta, spare electronics and parts—all of which you purchased without hesitation.  Other than that, you need a ship to travel anywhere in this massive galactic capital, and while you just so happen to have a ship, what you don’t have, at least right now, is a Mando.

Fuck, but you did.  Before he left, you had Mando all to yourself for at least a full hour.  After he landed the Crest in a long-term terminal and turned his attention back to you, for some reason, he was insatiable.  It didn’t really make much sense back then, but in hindsight, it’s like he knew good and well how long he was going to be gone this time, attempting to search for a quarry on a planet with a population that broke a trillion last year.  It makes sense.  With this many people, a biometric tracking fob would be almost useless, and sure, you realize he set the ship down in the long-term terminal for a reason, but long-term with Mando typically means a week or two.  You suddenly realize that in a handful of days, he’ll have been gone a full month.

You suppose you probably could fly the ship somewhere else and send him a coded coordinate set of your new location, but for some strange reason, you can’t seem to reconcile going to all that trouble just because you’re bored out of your fucking mind.  You don’t want him to have to travel another however many miles out of his way to get back to you just so you won’t have to twiddle your thumbs for weeks on end.  You don’t want to run the risk of trying to make a quick trip there and back without alerting him of any change in location, either, especially on a planet this size.  He could return to the hub at any time, and if he comes back to a different ship parked in this lot, you’ll probably never see him again.

Okay, no, that’s not true—he hunts people for a living, and you have his kid.  You probably just wouldn’t see him for at least another month or so, and by then he’d be fucking livid.

So.  You stay here.  The baby offers a distraction, but only to a certain point.  The ship is pristine right now, inside and out.  Fucking pristine.  Almost… almost compulsively so, you reluctantly admit.  The console’s entire motherboard has brand new soldering and connections.  You used ear swabs to clean and polish each individual button, key, and knob in the entire flight deck.  You… may or may not have even labeled and color-coded the heat shrink wrap on every single cable in the Crest’s patchbay, all five-hundred and something of them.  When you pried open the metal paneling that covered all the ship’s interior routing jacks, you remember gasping at the sight of a mechanic’s worst nightmare and wondering if the last person who touched it took even more than a few hours on its installation.  What used to be a horrifying tangle of haphazard wiring is now a lovely set of rainbow snakes meticulously gathered and bound together with zipties, and you’re incredibly proud of it, though you still haven’t decided whether or not you should be.

There’s also a very particular reason you’re in this poor excuse for a bed.  You still very clearly remember Mando’s unfiltered voice in the pitch darkness, telling you he wants to come back to find you in his bed.  To find you in it, so he can fuck you though it.  

Well.  Three weeks ago, sleeping in here sounded like a good idea.  You even have a pillow now, and a blanket you can lay out beneath you while you curl up under the one you brought from home.  It’s thick and warm—probably a shock blanket, to be honest, since you did happen to find in the medical section—but it still doesn’t offer near enough padding to feel like you’re laying on an even surface right now.  Mando could theoretically get on top of you in here and fuck you—there is enough room vertically.  He might break one of your ribs on accident though, just judging from the way this one Maker-forsaken support bar seems to dig into your ribcage no matter which way you position yourself in here.

Stars, your back hurts.  You should just lay on the fucking floor.  If he hasn’t come back by now, what are the chances of it happening tonight?  But then your mathematical hindbrain immediately reminds you that statistically, the chances are the highest they’ve ever been.  The longer Mando’s gone, the more likely he is to come back every single day that passes.

It’s just as well, you figure, grabbing the tracks beneath the bed and slowly beginning to squeak yourself out of the wall.  You try not to let your fingers get pinched between the railing and the slider, but that just means the quickest you’re able to inch out is in intervals the approximate length of your index finger.  It’s dark in the hull—the baby is fast asleep in his crib in the cockpit, and the long-term terminal you’re parked in is quiet.  It would be a perfect time to sleep, if you could.  But here’s the thing—

It sucks that Mando’s gone for this long, absolutely.  It sucks that you slept on this awful fucking bed for three whole weeks when you could’ve done this ages ago.  But most of all, it sucks that you don’t have anything else to do.  Because that means you can’t occupy yourself, and when you can’t occupy yourself, your mind starts to wander.  And then you start to fixate on things you probably shouldn’t fixate on, for your own good.

Things like blood on your hands.  The baby limp in your arms.  A voice spitting, “pretty little bitch like you would sell for at least—”

Your eyes snap to the corner of the hull for the millionth time, the sight of where it happened, before you shake yourself out of it and hop down off the suspended cot.

“This’ll be good,” you whisper quietly in the darkness to yourself, pulling the blankets off and grabbing the pillow.  It’s… it’s something you’ve started to do when you need to instantly snap yourself out of a dreaded line of thinking but you don’t have anything stimulating around you to help.  Talk to yourself, talk about anything, just talk out loud and focus on the sound of your own voice.  If you listen hard enough, it’ll drown out your thoughts.  “The floor will be great.  The floor kicks ass.  I like the floor.”

You spread the fluffiest blanket down on the ground as far away from the offending corner as possible, and then close the much shittier metal bed into the hull wall before collapsing on your clearly superior one, never once ceasing your rambling nonsense about the floor.

Oh, this is nice.  This is fantastic.  Your back is still tight and achy from three awful weeks of sleeping on a “mattress” clearly made for someone with no concept of comfort, but being able to stretch out on a flat surface with a large shock blanket that feels like a fucking cloud under your body?  Your eyes are already starting to droop.

“The floor is better,” you whisper, yawning and snuggling deeper into the pillow.  The terminal is quiet.  The kid will be asleep for a while.  Mando won’t come back tonight.  Mando won’t come back tonight.  “The floor is better.  The floor… the floor…”

***

You jerk awake to something kicking your leg, hard.  

Gasping, you’re instantly pulling the blanket over your chest on reflex and bracing yourself for another impact, except then whatever kicked you is immediately toppling over your shins and stumbling to the floor with an unfamiliar grunt.

You and a man you don’t recognize blink at each other for a few seconds; him taking in the way you’re curled up on your makeshift bed, and you taking in the way he’s got his face squished against the metal ground, apparently not quick enough to use his arms to try and soften the abrupt tumble.

It’s like all your blood suddenly thickens and the adrenaline digs claws into your chest.  Your first instinct is to fucking bolt, but then your eyes instantly flick to the cockpit, where you know the kid is still sleeping.

Only—you can’t move.  You’re frozen in terror, quickly blinking your wide-eyed gaze back at the man on the ground.  You know you could’ve only been staring at each other for a few seconds at most, but with the way your mind is hurtling right now, it’s long enough for you to have just the briefest flicker of confusion as to why he hasn’t appeared to have moved either.

Except then another set of footsteps slowly begin clanking up the ramp.

Your heart is fucking slamming up against your ribcage at about the rate of four beats per footstep, but as soon as you catch a flash of beskar stepping onto the ship, you‘re reaching up to clutch your chest with your palm like you just finished a long-distance sprint and trying to take deep, calming breaths.

It’s just a quarry.  It’s just a quarry.  His hands are cuffed behind his back.  It’s a quarry.

The Mandalorian slowly comes to a stop right in front of your outstretched legs and the sharp angles of his chrome profile silently stare down at them, unmoving.  You swallow thickly and try not to blush as his helmet tilts towards you and follows your knees up to your hips, along your heaving abdomen and chest, before eventually coming to a rest on your face.

He holds there for a second, taking you in.  You bite down your lip and feel your heart thundering under your ribcage, blinking up at him as your cheeks flush in a boiling hot mixture of panic, embarrassment, and relief.

His metallic visor carefully follows the length of your body back down again, pausing once more at your feet.  

And then he sighs heavily through the modulator, loud enough to echo through the silent hull, before slowly stepping over them.

“Well, well,” the quarry says, stealing your attention with a sick smile creeping across half his face as it’s smushed against the floor.  “Who’s this, Mando?  She’s just darling, isn’t she?  Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addit—?”

The bounty abruptly cuts off with a strangled yelp when Mando bends down and grabs him by the collar, yanking him to his feet and then shoving him forward towards the carbonite chamber.  

You collapse back down onto the floor with a relieved breath and try not to tremble with the adrenaline comedown.  Maker, you woke up barely a minute ago but almost all of it was spent in fight or flight—or in your case, freeze—mode, and you’re already fucking exhausted again.

“I’ll tell him—” you can hear the quarry snarl just before Mando slams him into the metal frame.  As much as you try to just tune the confrontation out for the moment and focus on slowing your heart rate, you still manage to catch bits and pieces.  “See him again… be interested to know…”

You close your eyes and breathe deeply, counting to three during each inhale and exhale.  Fuck, that scared you.  You almost had a fucking heart attack, and it takes you a few seconds to get your body under control again.  But then you realize you haven’t heard anything from Mando’s side of the hub for an extended moment, and the carbonizing gas hasn’t yet filled the room.

Your head turns and if you squint from this distance, you can make out a leather glove clamped tight around the quarry’s throat, the man’s face a red-purple by this point as he sags weakly against the chamber.

“Mando!”  You bark quite suddenly, and beskar shoulders jerk straight at the sound as the bounty immediately takes in a giant, ragged breath from under a marginally loosened grip.  Mando quickly releases his neck altogether and punches in a few buttons on the control panel to the right, and then freezing gas soon solidifies the gasping quarry into solid carbonite.

He stays with his back to you for a moment, letting the cloud disappear completely before he moves a single muscle.  When he does eventually turn to look at you, he still doesn’t say anything.

He just stares.  The lights in the hull glint off his helmet, and you tug the blankets up your chest a little further on instinct.  Fuck, three weeks is a long time.  You’re defaulting in a way, finding it impossible to not reevaluate him after a long absence.  Before he left, you’d gotten a bit better at gauging his mood and countenance, been more relaxed and friendly around him, but now, after some time away from him, he’s still so… jarring.  Unpredictable, even when standing still.  Especially when standing still.  

You’re just trying to play it by ear, trying to respond to him the way he responds to you.  Only—it feels like he’s either not responding to you at all, or you’re just too rousing of a stimulus to show a response.

“You…” you breathe, and for some reason your heart rate is beginning to kick up again instead of decelerate.  You should be calmer now that he’s here, but he still hasn’t said a word.  “Y-You scared me.”

Mando stays rooted to the spot, just a motionless suit of armor, with the exception of his chest moving with breaths and his fists repeatedly clenching at his sides, and fuck.

Fuck, you’re wet.

You feel like prey right now.  You’re starting to gradually build into another fight or flight mode every second he’s staring you down, refusing to speak, but you also feel a stirring deep down in your floor muscles.  He’s so fucking tall from this angle, so broad and—

He steps a single foot forward.  You flinch at the abrupt movement, practically soaking your underwear now.  Mando takes another step forward, and you wet your lips and start to crawl back on the bed just a bit, staring at him with wide eyes.

Maker, the tension is making it hard to breathe.  You’re silently begging him to come take care of you after such an agonizing three weeks apart, and Mando’s body language looks like he’s more wound up than you’ve ever seen him.  He starts pacing directly to you, crossing the hull rapidly, and your heart thumps furiously with every step he takes.

But then he gets right to the edge of the blankets and suddenly stops short.  He looks down at the neatly made bed at his feet, and then down at his body.

You try not to make an audible huff of disappointment when he abruptly collapses down onto his back with a clatter right there on the floor, just a few inches shy of the blanket, immediately bringing the backs of both hands up to press against the face of his helmet.  It should look weird considering his knuckles are pushing hard against the visor, almost like he’s covering his eyes or has a headache but is rubbing the beskar instead of his forehead, but it doesn’t.  It just makes you want to rip that armor off his body even more and remind him again of what his skin feels like.

“What are you doing?”  You try not to make it sound like a breathless pout as you squirm impatiently under the blankets.  “Come over here.”

“I’m dirty,” is the first thing that comes through the modulator, gravelly and distorted but his voice burning a fucking hole through you after not hearing it for almost a month.  “I need to shower before I touch you.”

You don’t know why, but something about the way he says it makes you throb hard between your legs.

“Will you please just…” you bite your lip, stopping yourself short of saying take your clothes off and go with, “please, just—hurry.  I’m…”

Maker, you don’t know how to say it, and Mando soon rolls his helmet to the side to look at you when you don’t finish your sentence.  Desperate for it?  Hurting?  Feeling your clit pulse right now even though he hasn’t laid a finger on you yet?

“I missed you,” you eventually finish lamely, breathless as you fidget and bite your lip.

“Yeah?”  He breathes, suddenly turning the rest of his body on his side to face you.  “Tell me.”

“I… I want to show you,” you return quietly, scooting closer towards him.  “But you’re being withholding.”

Mando doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but the front of his visor burns into you, steadily increasing your need for him the longer he silently stares at you.

“Show me, then,” he says after a moment, and the sentence rolls through you with a shudder.

You swallow thickly, and slowly start to pull the blanket down.  It’s unnerving that his helmet doesn’t move, even though you can literally feel his gaze lowering and searing hot along your newly revealed body.  You’re not even naked, not in the slightest, but with the way his shoulders tighten and his spine tenses just slightly, you would think you were completely exposing yourself to him right now.

“Do you want…”  Your fingers waver near your belly button, caught somewhere between wanting to pull the hem of your shirt up for him and wanting to pull the waistband of your pants down.  “What do you want to see?”

A breath comes through the helmet; slow, but shaky.

“I have to shower,” he grunts sharply, suddenly, his fist clenching at his side.  You don’t take offense to the stern tone.  He’s clearly repeating the sentence as a reminder to himself, not to you.

“You can get me dirty,” you breathe regardless.  “I don’t care.”

“I just spent three weeks on Coruscant’s surface,” Mando grits.  “I can’t touch you, I’ll infect you with someth—What are you doing?”

You bite your lip at him as an answer, bypassing your prior conflict altogether by slithering your hand down the front of your pants.

“What are you doing?”  He repeats through the modulator, just as your fingertips wedge underneath the hem of your panties.  

You shiver at the sensation, your eyes losing focus just slightly as you trail down the front of your pussy.  “I… I missed you.”

“Fuck,” Mando barks, and then he scrambles to stand up.  “Stop.  I’m taking a shower, just—just stop.”

You ignore him, turning on your back and widening your knees so he can still see the way your hand is still moving down between your legs, your finger just barely brushing the top of your slit.  “But it feels good.” “Take your hand out of your fucking pants,” he orders tightly.  “Right now.”

Your eyes flutter up at him as you do what he says, slowly bringing your hand out of your trousers.  “Hurry,” you murmur, biting your lip and blinking innocently up at him.  “Please.”

He doesn’t say a word, but his cape does make an audible sound with how quickly he whips around and shuts himself away in the tiny fresher.

***

You forget how long it takes to undo the beskar armor sometimes.  In fact, throughout the entire duration of Mando’s shower, you’re able to quietly sneak up to the cockpit and navigate the ship out of the terminal, pull up the coordinates for the next quarry on the navcomp while rising to a high enough altitude above the galactic capital, make a jump into hyperspace, return to the hull, shut off the lights, and slither back under the covers before the fresher actually turns off.

Soon, Mando raps his knuckles against the door separating the two of you, and you’ve completely wiggled out of your clothes by that point, the blanket resting just below your naked waist.  “Hey,” his unmodulated voice calls from behind the thick slab of metal.  “Eyes closed for a second.”

“I’m not looking,” you agree, draping your elbow across the bridge of your nose and waiting patiently.  He gives you a few seconds regardless before the door is sliding open.  You expect it to quickly shift shut again, plunge the room back into pitch blackness like before, but he hesitates.  It takes another moment for you to realize that he’s probably just staring at your naked chest while he stands there in the doorway, light spilling into the hull and illuminating you waiting for him with your eyes obediently shut.

“I thought I told you not to sleep on the floor anymore,” he murmurs after a quiet second, and you bite your lip and shuffle your shoulders impatiently against the floor, arching your chest out just slightly to entice him to come closer.

“Fuck that bed,” you breathe with your arm still pressed over your eyes, and your nipples feel tight in the cool air.  “Your armory is bigger than that bed, Mando.  Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Yeah,” he returns, finally shutting the fresher light off and shifting the door shut behind him, beginning to make his way over to you.  “Tells me that there are more guns than people on this ship, as well it should be.”

“Maker, you’re impos—”

You’re cut off by Mando dropping to his knees and slowly crawling over your body, and fuck he’s as naked as you are, he’s naked and his skin is warm and damp from the shower and his hair is still dripping as you slither your arms up his chest and comb your fingers through it.

You can’t see a damn thing but you’re instantly thanking your lucky stars for that fact when his head drops down and a hot tongue drags up the curve of your neck.  Okay, this is better.  This is always better.  Even when you can’t see a damn thing, feeling the hollow of your jaw be caressed by a blazing wet furnace and tugging your fingers through his hair will always be better than when he keeps the helmet on.  Maker, you almost forgot how fucking good his mouth is, how soft and warm it is, and you can’t bite down a whimper when his lips finally trail up your chin and seal against yours.

You moan when his tongue gently slides into your mouth, unable to stop yourself as your cunt fucking throbs between your legs with arousal, and Mando even lets out a short huff of air through his nose and a low noise quietly slips through his vocal cords as he tastes you.  The barely audible sound is enough gasoline to your fire that you wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his lower back before tugging, wanting his cock pressed against your cunt so you can rub yourself against it while he kisses you.

Only, something in the way Mando’s elbows immediately buckle and the hiss of air through his teeth before he unceremoniously collapses on top of you makes you instantly let him go.

“Hey,” you say, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck and puff a short few breaths of hot air against your skin.  “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck,” he grunts, sounding somewhere between discomfort and legitimate pain, moving to prop his arms up next to your head again but taking a moment before trying to push himself up.  “Back.  Back hurts.  Too—” he winces when his shoulder moves a certain way, “—too old for this.”

“Here.”  There’s just enough space between you and Mando to wiggle out from underneath him, quickly turning around and swinging a leg over his back as he abruptly drops to the floor with the extra weight.  “Let me rub your back.”

“Shit—come on,” he groans against the blankets.  “I haven’t touched you in three fucking—”

Your hands trail up his spine, slow and gentle, and Mando cuts himself off.  He shudders under your palms as they carefully push and roll into the small of his back, and the muscles curving down under your touch gradually rise as he breathes in a lungful of air.  “Let me rub your back,” you repeat softly, letting your voice lull just a bit in a lower register, and all the air immediately releases from under your hands.

“Okay,” he relents, but his spine still holds straight and tight with tension.

“Okay?”  You repeat, dragging your palms back up until they’re roughly in the middle of his spine.  “Tell me if I go too hard.”

Mando barely huffs with a chuckle beneath you.  “Yeah, okay, I’ll tell you if—nghh—”

You dig your knuckles into the dip right beneath his shoulder blades and start kneading, and Mando makes a strangled noise and sags into the floor.  Your smile is almost impossible to hide, but the pitch black hull does the job just fine as you press and roll your knuckles into the hills and valleys of his back.  The noises he makes are a mixture of soft gasps and chokes, but it gives you the perfect opportunity to explore his body in ways you haven’t been able to before.

Your thumbs you dig in and follow the curve of his spine down, squeezing through the tightness in his lower back.  The skin under your hands is soft and giving, even though you can feel massive knots hidden underneath.  You take all the time in the galaxy with it, isolating each ache and pain and then grinding your knuckles into them steady and hard enough to make Mando groan brokenly under the pressure.  You work at it for a while, trailing your fingers up to his neck and massaging the base of his skull, not being able to imagine how much those muscles have to hurt after holding up a heavy beskar helmet every single day.  Your hands explore everything you can from this angle—you squeeze the tops of his shoulders, slide your palms down and squeeze his biceps, the muscles under his elbows, the ones wrapped around his forearms.

“This alright?”  You ask after a while, and you barely get a hoarse grunt from him in response.  His body is perfectly relaxed under yours, almost dead if he wasn’t still breathing, and you slowly walk your hands down the length of his back until you’re braced upright on him once more.  “You gonna make it?”

Eventually, he drags his forearms up so he can prop them against the blankets and slowly roll over underneath you.  You allow the lazy movement, lifting your hips up as he rotates, feeling his smooth skin shift under your palms until he finally comes to a rest on his back.

“My turn?”  He asks through the darkness.

“Your turn for wh—?”  You gasp as his grip instantly tightens, and then he’s abruptly switching your positions until he’s on top of you.  Almost all of your breath is knocked out of you when Mando grabs you and flips you over until you’re on your tummy, and then whatever remains suddenly whooshes out when he straddles you and plops down on your lower back.

“My turn to give you a massage,” he says, and you let out a quiet, “fuck—” when his palms land on your shoulders.

“Wait—” You pant, “—Wait, hang on, I don’t need a—”

Thank the fucking Maker you turn your head quick enough to muffle a loud moan when his fingers begin rubbing hard circles into your deltoids.  Stars, sleeping on hard metal for three weeks was truly a nightmare for your posture.  The knots in your upper back burn under the steady push and press of his touch, and it’s like your muscles can’t decide if they want to relax under the manipulation or tense up against it.

“Maker,” he murmurs, his thumbs frame either side of your spine and slowly drag downwards, and your voice almost cracks as you hide another groan in the pillow.  “Why does your back hurt?  What did you do to yourself?” “I slept—” you gasp when his knuckles roll up the length of your sides.  “Slept—on that piece of fucking scr-scrap metal—you call a—” his fingers press firmly against the valley below your shoulder blades, and then widen apart to start squeezing your arms, “—a bed for three weeks,” you manage to gasp, sparks of sensation shooting down to your fingertips as he rubs the muscles along the length of your biceps.

Soon, Mando’s hands come back down to rest on the small of your back, and he begins digging his thumbs into the base of your spine.  “Why did you do it for so long if it hurt?”

“You said—” You cut off with a moan into the pillow as he slowly scoots back until he’s sitting on your thighs, his hands moving downwards and kneading the soft flesh of your ass, pressing deep into the sore muscles while you struggle to remember what you were going to say.  “Said you wanted me to sleep in y—”

His thumbs start slowly moving inwards, his large hands butterflying out along both cheeks and squeezing.  He spends a second just grabbing and pulling your pillowy flesh, shamelessly spreading you and manipulating it until you’re throbbing between your legs again.  He’s being so brazen about it, too, gradually moving his thumbs closer and closer together until they’re digging into the crevice.

“Hey, uh,” you pant, starting to tense up a bit as his thumbs begin moving downwards.  “Ma—h-hey, you’re getting really… close to m-my…”

His hands keep steadily moving down, and you’re starting to squirm just a bit at the unfamiliar sensation of someone’s fingers pressing and kneading the unexplored skin between your cheeks.  

“Getting real close to your what?”  He drawls out from above you, low in his throat, and your cunt pulses with need.

Fuck, you’re gasping raggedly into the pillow, wondering if the absence would truly make him this bold.  You’re halfway caught between nervousness and being incredibly fucking turned on, and the way he pauses right above your asshole and just holds there makes your the muscles deep in your lower abdomen twist in anticipation and heat.  Fuck, you’re soaking the blankets beneath you, you can tell.  A thin sheen of sweat breaks out across your body and it’s all you can do to just lay there and wait for it with bated breath.

But then his weight is suddenly lifting from you and sliding down the length of your legs, settling at your feet.  You barely have enough time to let out a deep sigh—half of it relief and the other half… disappointment, maybe?—before he grabs hold of one of them, the size of it only slightly bigger than his hand, and firmly presses both thumbs into your arch.

A groan of approval slips through your vocal cords and you go practically boneless underneath him, not realizing how tense you just were a second ago.

“Fuck, that’s s-so good,” you murmur into the pillow, grabbing the blankets at your sides and fisting them subconsciously as he clamps his large hand around your heel and squeezes.

After spending just as much time and attention on the other foot, you feel him grip both your ankles and start working circles up the length of your calves with his thumbs.  His hands flex against the backs of your knees when they get there, and then your breathing kicks back up again when they gradually drag up your subtly clenching thighs.

But then they come to an immediate halt about halfway up, and you have to bite back a huff of distress when he just holds there.  Fuck, why did he stop?  Why did he stop?

“Sweet girl,” he eventually breathes out, sounding somewhere between chastising and shocked.  Your eyes flutter in the darkness at the tone, the endearment after nearly a month without it, and you wiggle slightly on the bed with arousal.  “Is this…?”  Mando brushes his fingers along the inside of your thighs, and you can feel the way his cock pulses as he presses it tight against your leg.  It’s not until he drags his hand down to your calves that you feel the slick heat coating the tips of his fingers, wiping it off on your relatively dry skin.

The pitch blackness makes it impossible to truly tell, but you’re sure your eyes roll back.  Stars, you are so wet for him, you’re leaking it halfway down your thighs.  It’s been too long since he’s touched you.  You can feel your lower muscles bearing down and coiling tight, your entire pelvic area now cramped up with need.

When his hand carefully moves up and a finger just barely ghosts over the soft flesh of your lips, you can’t stop yourself.

“Touch me,” you hear yourself suddenly beg, goosebumps breaking out along your skin while he begins to slowly trace the outside of your slit, up and down, up and down.  “Oh, fuck—please, Din, touch me, I—”

“Hush,” he tells you softly, and fuck, he’s on top of you and you physically can’t do anything to encourage him to hurry up.  The only thing you can do is kick one leg out as wide as possible and just shudder helplessly against the floor, trying to give his hands more room to work.

You feel desperate, your blood pounding through your ears as he takes all the time in the universe exploring you.  “Stars, don’t do this—I need you to—”

“Hush,” he murmurs once more, before moving both fingers to spread your lips apart ever so slightly, your slick heat seeping out to coat his fingers and the blanket below.  “Relax for me.”

Maker, your lower muscles are tightening down and throbbing in equal parts, and you just can’t relax, you can’t relax when you’re this close to cumming all over his hand even though he’s barely touched you.  You’ve been aching for it this whole time, but now there’s a bite to it, a slow burn that begins to engulf the lower half of you in simmering heat.  “Din, please, I missed you so m—”

You choke when you feel the slightest brush of a fingertip next to your clit, before he’s firmly pushing down and tracing a torturously strong semi-circle around the top of it.

Your toes curl and your body locks up and you gasp his name into the pillow, flexing every single muscle in your body in response to his touch until you’re impossibly rock hard with tension under him.

“Poor thing,” Din whispers, slowly tracing an arch back around the other way, and your entire body trembles with it.  Maker, you’re soaking his hand, slippery and hot and every nerve from the waist-down feels sharp and exquisite at the same time.  He leans down to press his lips to your shoulder blade while starting to rub strong circles around your clit.  “All alone for three weeks, nobody around to look after you.  Make sure you’re seen to.”

You’re not sure which way is up right now, and not being able to see anything isn’t fucking helping either.  You feel dizzy with sensation, shaky as his tongue slowly drags up your skin, and you actually feel water rush to your eyes in torment when he pulls his hand away.

You open your mouth to beg him not to stop, but then he’s already moving.  Grabbing your hips and slowly lifting them until your knees have to shuffle up to compensate.  He still keeps your head buried in the pillow, though, still keeps the upper half of your body firmly pressed against the floor.  You pant into the fabric half covering your face and fist the blanket underneath you, biting your lip and clenching your thighs as two hands carefully settle along the backs of them.

Fuck, he keeps you there for so long.  He drags out the anticipation until you’re downright hurting for it, waiting with your ass up in the air for him to do something—anything to help relieve your stress instead of continuing to build upon it.

“Fuck—” he whispers, “—missed you, too.”

When his hot, velvety tongue finally glides through your slit, something about it makes you moan brokenly into the pillow, spread your knees and arch your back even more in presentation.  Fuck, there’s just something about the mindblowing eroticism of your positioning right now, how you’re bent in half and letting him lick through your folds however is easiest for him, something about it hits just right and makes your orgasm suddenly pull up tight and fast.

“Din—” you breathe frantically, your knees shuffling apart and your hips pushing back against his mouth.  “Din, I’m gonna cum—”

His hands come up to clamp around your thighs and hold them steady.  And then he lowers his chin to seal his mouth over your clit, slowly dragging his slick tongue over it, again and again and again, and fuck, you can’t do anything to stop it.  Everything surges up, searing hot and wet as you go rigid and gasp his name, shuddering your way through the debilitating bliss as it arcs brilliantly up and down your spine.

By the time you’re finished, you’re slumped against the floor in exhaustion.  He pulls away and sits up, and you try to push yourself up too, but a large palm firmly flattening along your spine stops you.  The sound of him spitting and the subsequent slick glide of his hand around his cock makes you groan hoarsely against the pillow and relax back down again.

Din eases his way inside you and the thickness of him as he slowly breaks you open is fucking electrifying.  Your sensitive channel hugs tight to every fucking inch of him, lighting your nerves up from the inside and sending skittering shocks down your thighs.  You melt into the floor and take what he gives you until his hips touch your ass, sagging against the ground as he stands so tall and upright on his knees behind you.

When he slowly pulls back out, you can hear the wet sound it makes echo throughout the pitch black hull.  Maker, he just starts up a slow, steady rhythm, his steel grip on your ass holding you steady as he pushes in and out of you.  It’s blinding, making you writhe against the floor while he gives you his cock at a languid pace, dragging the pleasure out but snapping his hips against yours whenever he does reach the apex of his strong thrusts.

It’s as agonizing as it is blissful, and you moan softly into the pillow the entire way through it.  Except—you’re too full of mindless pleasure, too stimulated to want to remain stationary for this long.  You need to move, you need to show him how much you thought about him while he was gone.  

“Din—” you whimper, breathless and needy, turning your head back slightly to unmuffle your words.  “Turn over.”

“In a second,” he huffs, his cock continuing to steadily rock into you.  You’re bent in half, taking it the only way he’ll give it to you and not even being able to push back into him.  “No—l-later.  After.”

You whine, frustrated, clawing and pulling at the blankets under your arms.  “Please—”

“Fuck,” Din pants, “fuck, what do you need?  You need it faster?”  His speed kicks up the slightest bit, and stars, you have to bite the back of your hand to muffle the ragged noise you make in response.  “This what you need?  Tell me.”

There’s not a good way to phrase it.  Mostly, you just… feel the need to participate in this more directly.  You know from experience that he likes to finish when he’s on top, but after weeks apart, you… you need to be what makes him cum, not what he holds steady and uses to get himself there.  

Your voice comes out frantically, pleading gasps for him to grant you this one thing.  “Just turn over, please—pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

His thrusts falter, until they stop completely.  He sounds like he’s having as much trouble breathing as you are, but his hard grip on you gradually loosens.  “You—do you not—?”

You don’t let him finish.  As soon as he lets you go, you’re pushing yourself up and turning around, grabbing his shoulders and all but wrestling him down to the cushioned blanket.  Din grunts and lets you do it, dropping down onto his back and snaking his hands up your naked chest as you climb over him with weak, trembling limbs.  Once you get his cock into position and sink down though—fuck, you grab his wrists and yank them up until his palms are cupping your tits, and Din hisses below you.  Your hands are barely large enough to wrap around the backs of his, but you force him to squeeze them nonetheless, and then you begin to ride him in earnest.

He curses, bracing his feet against the floor and shifting his knees behind you, and then he starts pushing his hips up into yours in time with your downward rolls.  Maker, he hits something deep inside you at the angle, something that makes you gasp every time your hips meet.  Your palms drag down his wrists and forearms as he keeps groping your breasts, throwing your head back in ecstasy as another orgasm starts to stir somewhere low in your core.

“Stars, I—I think I m-might—” You barely have enough time to gasp it out before he’s releasing your breasts and anchoring his grip tight to your hips, beginning to angle and isolate in on that one spot that drives you fucking crazy.  The strong thrusts pull you forward until your palms are braced on the floor next to his head, and you just moan and push back against it as he fucks deep into you.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Din says again, his disembodied voice sounding tighter and more desperate in the darkness, like it’s coming out against his will.  “I—I missed you, t-too, sweet girl, I f-fucking—missed—”

You choke out a cry as another wave of euphoria all but fucking evicerates you.  Your elbows buckle and you fall into his chest, but Din wraps both arms around your back and keeps fucking you through it, gritting breathless curses at the ceiling as your cunt spasms around his cock.

“Tho—ught about you—” he groans, husky and low next to your ear, “every… fuck, every fucking day—thought about y—”

His body tenses and his thrusts stutter to a halt, and then he grinds up into you, gasping your name into the pitch black hull.  Your body is crushed into his chest when his hips jerk against yours, and you bite his shoulder in satisfaction, squeezing hard around his throbbing cock.

When Din finally settles back down to the floor again, both of you are spent.  Neither one of you fucking move.  You don’t say anything while you catch your breath against his chest, slumping down into him as his knees suddenly drop flat.

“Fuck,” he breathes.  “Fuck.  I’m.  I’m never taking a bounty on Coruscant again.”

You laugh lightly, swallowing and turning your head to settle in the crook of his neck.  Your knees shuffle up slightly until you’re resting all your weight on top of him, his cock still engulfed in your hot center.  As soon as you lift off him, you know you’re just going to dribble a mess all over these nice blankets, so you decide to put it off for as long as he allows it.

Din doesn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.  In fact, his chest shifts just slightly beneath you when he reaches down to catch one of the blankets and pull the fabric over the both of you, collapsing back into the pillow with an exhausted sigh and doing absolutely nothing to encourage you to move whatsoever.

“Corellia was worse,” you tell him instinctually, and he grunts and brings his hands up to trail his fingers along your lower back.

“Corellia was over within a day,” he points out, and.  Shit.  You know he’s just being diplomatic about it, but something in the way he casually brushes it off suddenly makes you go quiet.  He’s right, you probably weren’t on Corellia for more than a few hours total.  Not that you necessarily expected him to, but he clearly doesn’t realize the events that took place there have haunted you for weeks.

When you don’t immediately say something in response, Din stops dragging his fingers up your spine.  You can feel his chin lower slightly, his jaw brush against your forehead.  “You oka—?”

“I killed someone on Corellia,” you whisper, and your words hang heavy in the still air immediately afterwards.  “A man is dead because of me.”

He doesn’t speak.  For a long time, Din doesn’t speak.

By the time his voice eventually does come through the darkness, you’d almost convinced yourself he wasn’t going to say anything at all.

“You’re right,” he tells you bluntly, brushing your hair back from your shoulder.  And, for some reason, you’re not expecting it.  If you were able to get a verbal reply out of him at all, you… you hoped he’d argue with you even just a little bit, if only to make you feel even the slightest bit better.  “A man is dead, and you killed him.”

Though his voice is soft and you know he’s not being intentionally cruel, it’s like he reached through your ribcage and crushed your heart himself.  Your shoulders tense at the feeling, wanting to instinctively curl yourself inwards and make yourself smaller in response to it.  Only, Din’s broad chest prevents it.  All you can do is hide your face as best you can in his neck and let the unfiltered truth weigh heavy on you in the silent hull.

“But you’re wrong about one thing,” he eventually says.  “He’s not dead because of you.  That implies you had a choice.  You didn’t.  He’s dead because of him.  He gave you an ultimatum, and you did what you had to do.  Don’t feel bad that you won.”

“I didn’t win anything,” you whisper against his throat, uncomfortable with the implication.

“He initiated a confrontation, and you finished it,” he asserts.  “You did what you had to do, and you did great, so don’t—”

“Great?”  You close your eyes and try not to sound as upset as you currently feel, because you know this is just him being polite.  He does this for a living.  He’s probably lost count of how many people he’s killed in his lifetime, so what’s one body to him?  You shouldn’t have let the conversation lead here, especially after such a lovely moment.  “I… I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have brought it—”

“Listen to me,” Din suddenly says, curling the tips of his fingers against your shoulder blade.  “There’s something you need to understand, and I’m not trying to hurt your feelings by telling you this.  But the galaxy will never be as kind to you as you are to it.  You’re tenderhearted, and that’s not a bad thing.  Hang onto it, but recognize that it’s rare.  It’s not something that you’ll come by often.  You’ll never see as much of it in anyone else as I see in you.”

Maybe it’s because you know he’s not used to comforting people that the words actually manage to make you feel somewhat comforted.  They’re blunt and honest, but they also allow an unobstructed glimpse into his feelings for you, specifically because of that.

“I just…”  You bite your lip and snuggle your head deeper into the crook of his neck.  “I just wish I could… somehow…”

His chest expands fully with air underneath you, and then you can literally feel yourself slowly sink down a few inches with how deeply he sighs.  But… this isn’t the normal Mando sigh.  He doesn’t sound frustrated with you, exasperated, or impatient.  He sounds… empathetic.  Understanding.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head and comb his fingers through your hair, tugging at some of the tangles at your nape.  “What would you have done differently?”

You don’t answer him, because you immediately see what he’s getting at.  You’ve told yourself these things a million times over in the weeks he’s been gone.  Regardless, he goes on for you.

“Would you have chosen to land the ship in a different spot?  Risked a different person following you onto it?”  He asks, and though the overarching point to this line of questioning is already blatantly obvious, his voice is still kind.  “Would you have taken that vibroblade to a different part of his body?  Given him a slower death?  What else would you have done, sweet girl?”

You stay silent, fluttering your eyes shut.  His fingers lazily trail up and down the length of your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your skin once again.

“Even if there was something you could’ve done—even if his death had been your fault,” Din murmurs, “—listen, do you remember what you said to me?  When I told you my name—before that, do you remember what you said?  You said that some things just belong to people.  That there are certain things that people just own, right?  Fundamentally.  And you can do whatever you want with them.  You can choose whether or not to share them with others, you can hide them, or you can.  Change them.  Burn them away.  Remember?”

You nod as much as you can with your head buried into his neck like this.

“Well, you’re right,” he continues, his voice softening.  “Some things do belong to people.  But some things… some things you can’t change.  Some things you can’t hide, and you can’t just burn away forever.  But that doesn’t make them any less yours, understand?  You killed someone.  It doesn’t matter what I tell you, or what you tell yourself.  The end result won’t ever change.  It can't change.  You own that now, and you’ll carry his death with you.  Just like I carry every single one of mine.”

He’s… he’s right.  You don’t have to like it, but he’s right.

“I don’t like it when you quote me to me,” you eventually whisper, your lips brushing his throat.

“Too bad.  I got another one for you,” Din rumbles, and you can feel his gentle smile against your hairline as he tilts his head and presses his lips to your temple.  “The Way says no take-backs.”

You narrow your eyebrows into this perfect little corner of him, not liking how curt and unapologetic it sounds rolling off his tongue.  “Did I say that?”

“Yep,” he huffs at the ceiling.  “Half-asleep, yet observant enough to be annoying.”

Your mouth twists, trying to appear visibly offended in the pitch blackness for some reason but fighting back a smile.  “Would you rather I be oblivious and adorable?”

“No,” he says immediately, and then you blink a few times in the darkness at the sincerity in his tone.  “You’re smart.  Well—you’re an idiot sometimes, but you’re smart.  That’s good.  That’s your best weapon.  Use it.”

“Use it?”  You ask, your voice quiet but curious.  “For what?”

He takes a second before responding, his fingers continuing to trace gentle, subconscious shapes along the curve of your spine.  “What planet are we going to next?”

The abrupt change in subject is stark and immediately noticeable, but you wrack your memory for the coordinates you brought up earlier when he was in the fresher nonetheless.  “Naboo.”

“I was thinking,” Din says, shifting just the slightest bit under you.  You groan when you realize his cock is still inside you, soft but still gorgeously thick enough to not slip out.  “Might… might be a good idea to show you some things.  Give you a few self-defense tips before I head out again.  Naboo is one of the safest planets in the galaxy.  We can… take a few days.”

“Yeah?”  You breathe, a spark of excitement bringing an immediate smile to your face.

“Yeah,” he repeats softly, the scruff on his jaw rubbing against your temple as he nods.  “Been awhile.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip on a grin and try not to let him hear the happiness in your voice.  Fuck, a few days.  A few days he’s delaying his job to spend with you.  Maybe you’ll be able to sleep on an actual mattress at some point.  You truly can’t fucking wait.

You two stay like that for quite a long time, just resting and breathing with each other in the pitch black hull.

“We just wouldn’t have gone to Corellia, how about that?”  You find yourself saying after a moment of comfortable silence.  When Din doesn’t speak, you elaborate.  “You asked me what I would’ve done differently.  We just wouldn’t have gone to Corellia.  Avoided the whole fucking sector altogether, like I plan on doing for the rest of my life.”  

And then your whole body abruptly jerks up and down exactly once with his genuinely amused huff of laughter from underneath you.

Your expression immediately narrows.  This is the third time you’ve ever made him laugh in all the months you’ve known him, and somehow all three of them have been at your own expense.  “What’s funny?”

“Absolutely.  You could’ve—” he clears his throat, “—convinced me.  Not to hunt down a bounty.”

He doesn’t make a sound beyond that, and had you not been laying on top of his chest as it subtly vibrated with stifled chuckles, you wouldn’t have known at all that he found that to be so funny.

“I could’ve… wooed you,” you try after a second, and nope.  You feel like you’re on top of a silent, quaking faultline now, and you do your best to keep a frown on your face as you rock back and forth on top of him.  His cock almost slips out of you in the commotion.  Almost.

“Get some sleep, you sweet talker,” he eventually sighs when he calms his breathing, kissing your forehead and settling back down into the blankets.  “The kid will be up in a few hours, probably less.”

“He’s your son,” you grumble, still sulking somewhat at his blatant disregard of your seduction talents.  “Takes after you.  For all I know he looks just like you, too.”

“Sleep,” Din tells you, bringing a hand up to cup the back of your head and push it deeper into the crook of his neck.  “That’s enough talking.”

You stomp down the playful urge to bite him and settle into him instead, closing your eyes and breathing him in.  Fuck.  A few days on Naboo.  You’ve only heard nice things about the beautiful planet.  You wonder if it has an ocean.  Could a planet be called beautiful if it doesn’t have at least one?  You’ve seen rivers and lakes on planets Din has taken you to, but there was always land on the other side.  You’ve never seen an actual ocean before, you’ve only heard about them.  Water, as far as the eye can see.  There has to be an ocean on Naboo, right?

“Hey Din, are there any—”

“Stop.”

It’s alright, you’ll ask later.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #fanfic #reader insert #no-droids #rough day #smut

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I got a tiiiiny bit of power and my first thought was my need for validation through my fanfiction lol. Hope you enjoy!

<This is Part 1!> / Part 2 Here!

- You’re in the middle of a blizzard, reading to pass the time, the power cuts in and out- giving you just enough time to scramble about trying to make your home just warm enough so you don’t freeze to death

- You sigh when it flickers off again, taking a sip from the hot drink you managed to make while you still had electricity

- Eyes turn back to the book in your hands, with the poor cell reception, and lack of television you’ve found the only thing you can bear to do it read and sleep

- Only occasionally withdrawing from both to eat whatever cold meal you can

- You’ve settled on reading the Harry Potter books, easy enough to read, even in your current condition

- The books are waterlogged, in terrible condition, you treated them quite rough when you were a child, though not all the blame is yours

- It’s an eclectic group, some hardcover some paperback, some borrowed from friends and never returned, some you got as a good deal at your local used bookstore

- You smile when you see all the parts with Fred and George are highlighted

- They always were your favorites

- You stiffile a yawn, you’re just getting to a good part-

- But a small rest won’t hurt will it?

- You feel your eyes drift close

- When they open again you’re looking at rolling hills, a wisp of steam curling into your view every so often

- Huh what a nice dream

- You close your eyes again only to feel a sharp sting in your neck that your eyes shoot open

- You don’t feel pain in dreams

- You’re in a train compartment an empty red bench in front of you

- You’re alone, the green hills rolling by outside the window

- You’ve seen this type of scenery before maybe in a movie, or a book-

- It looks a lot like something out of Harry Potter

- Your thoughts come to an abrupt hault, the memories slowly filtering in

- You’re a witch- your parents passed away in the first war, and you were brought up by your muggle godfather

- Don’t be mistaken, this isn’t some unfortunate Harry-Potter orphan story, your god father loved you a lot

- Even though he was a bit of a sl*t, the revolving circus of women that left his room every Sunday was practically your childhood form of television

- You even did a report on it in muggle school, high left several faculty members feeling concerned

- Still he loved you a lot, and he tried to be as honest as he could about your heritage, and your parents

- But well- he was a muggle, there was only so much he could do

- Still, he took you to kings cross himself, taking you to your gringott’s safe where your parents meager savings had increased by ten fold over the years, helping you pick your wand and books

- “Now I can’t go with you onto the platform, so write and let me know when you’ve reached safely alright?” You nodded, as he pulled you into a hug

- “I’m going to miss having you home”

- “But now you can bring women to the flat whenever you want” You were only joking but it makes him sniffle

- “I’d trade all of that to have you at home for just a few more years”

- You only pat his shoulder reassuring him you’ll be back during the holidays

- You had tried your hand at a few spells, but nothing drastic

- You were excited to see what Hogwarts would bring, what you might learn, and the friendships you might build

- You were so excited that you didn’t sleep all night, finally succumbing to a nap when you collapsed in an empty compartment

- And that brings you to the present, where you’re practically sweating buckets in the red bench.

- Okay, so you’re in Harry Potter now- some how

- And yeah, you’ve always kinda wished you could go to Hogwarts-

- But not like this!

- For one every book, like 3 kids die

- Even the cute ones, like Collin Creevey-

- And honestly if a main character like Fred Weasley died, what chance do you have at surviving?

- You’re probably just one of those nothing characters that dies at the battle of Hogwarts- if not sooner

- You look down at your hands

- Not to mention you’re suddenly eleven years old

- How many times did you have a nightmare you suddenly had to go back to middle or high school again because apparently you missed a class?

- Well this is like a nightmare come true

- You look under your shirt, holding the neck out only to sigh

- It’s your body still, you vaguely remember looking like this when you were younger

- But god-

- It’s like a strangers body at this point

- Ugh you don’t have time to think about this

- your goal right now is to survive

- A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts

- “Change into your robs, we’re getting close” a muffled voice says from the other side and you sigh

- Of course you are

- You sigh as you pull out your plain black wizards robe, almost looks like a graduation gown to be honest

- And that’s the uniform here is it

- Strange

- As you tug on the sleeves you think how you’re going to get out of this

- If you’re right the year is 1990, a year before Harry Potter shows up

- Okay so as far as you know- nothing really happens this year

- You don’t have to worry about all the Pureblood crap because both your parents were wizards, so you’re a half blood at least

- Now it’s all about house-

- If the books are 100% accurate then it’s between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Snape will turn a blind eye to any of your transgressions because of favoritism

- And McGonagall would go to bat for you if the circumstances were unfair

- Still- the Slytherin house seemed problematic what with the old money in that group

- Not all of them were probably like that- just the most prominent characters- you’d really rather not get involved with all that if you could

- And then- Gryffindor was even worse, you might be safe this year, but next year you would be plagued with death flag after death flag- no thanks

- Sprout seems nice enough, but you’re not too sure about that common room, in the dungeons- hard pass

- That leaves Ravenclaw, Flitwick seems nice enough, and the dorms are in a Ravenclaw tower

- Luna Lovegood will be there soon, and well, that could be pretty fun

- So you’ll try for Ravenclaw you think- pulling on your bag and joining the horde of students

- You’re about to join the other first years when you feel a tug on your bag.

- You turn towards the feeling to see two identical boys, a splatter of freckles across their nose, and flaming red hair

- “Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?” The taller of the two asks, a grin curled onto his lips, and his eyes full of stars

- You only nod

- They’re both looking at you like they’ve just seen a movie star and you can’t figure out why

- You’re only eleven years old after all, what could you have possibly done?

- “Was you Mum-“ the shorter starts

- “Was she the famous auror?” The other finishes

- Ah- of course

- Your mother was indeed a famous war hero, known for her noble efforts during the war

- Your god father had told you that at least

- “I’m George, and this is Fred” the shorter - George- says jerking his thumb to his twin

- Oh

- So they’re Fred and George Weasley?!?!

- Honestly you should have known by the red hair

- You can’t believe you’re meeting some of your favorite characters

- You stick your hand out, hoping it’s not too sweaty

- “(Y/N),” you say, “but you already knew that”

- George grins as he takes your hand first, with Fred repeating the motion

- “What house do ya think you’ll go to?” Fred asks

- “We hope you’re aiming for Gryffindor” George adds with a sly grin

- You can feel your face warming up under their gaze

- Alright- change of plan- you’ll try to get into Gryffindor so you can be friends with George and Fred

- It’ll be a little risky, but until the end they weren’t really in any of the serious adventures.

- Besides maybe if you hang out with them, you can save Fred near the end

- “Maybe” you smile at them, hearing a voice call your name for a carriage

- “See you around!” You wave goodbye, stepping into you assigned carriage with a group of other first years

- It’s sort of a mismatch, you don’t quite recognize anyone in here

- Than again the children an age above Harry were never really mentioned

- “Ugh I can’t believe my glasses broke, what rotten luck” a girl besides you says- you turn to see a girl with long dark hair, fiddling with a pair of broken glasses in her hands

- “Ah here, can I?” You ask, holding out your hand, and the girl wordlessly hands you her glasses

- Your murmur a spell and watch as the metal expands curling until it wraps around the broken edge, resembling intertwined vines

- “It’s not the best, but it’ll do for now”

- It’s only when you look up to hand the girl back her glasses that you notice everyone’s watching you

- “How did you do that?” A boy asks, and you shrug

- “Oh well I just said the incantation-“

- “I’ve never heard that one before” another girl murmurs

- You shrug again

- “Anything can be an incarnation of you just put enough feeling into it right?”

- The children clamor at you all at once

- It turns out the two girls were Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott- both Hufflepuff’s if you remember correctly

- Guess they were a year older than Harry in this world

- And then the boy is Blaise Zambini

- You know in the books he’s in a morally Grey area at best.

- “So like this?” He asks and you shake your head

- “You have to put your wrist into it more”

- But now, as he’s begging you to teach him the repairing charm that you cast, all you see is a little boy who wants to learn

- Change of plans, if you get into Slytherin maybe you can watch over Blaise and be his best friend

- That way he won’t get all mixed up in that Death Eater crap

- Maybe you can even get him onto your side, make a coven of witches and wizards and do some non-alignment stuff during the war

- You’re all gathered in the hall, answering a roll call from a rather lithe and strict woman- professor McGonagall no doubt

- After that you’re left waiting, and feeling somewhat bored, and somewhat like you may have had too much pumpkin juice- you hobble off into the corridor looking for a bathroom

- “Hurry back I think we’re about to go into the sorting ceremony” Blaise says and you nod

- You do not, in fact, hurry back

- Because after relieving yourself- you are incredibly lost

- It doesn’t help that all the portraits keep on shuffling around, or that all the corridors here look equally dark

- It’s only on your third time around the portrait of a woman eating an apple do you see what appears to be a person

- “What are you doing in the corridor?” As you come closer you realize it’s a boy, a yellow and black striped tie around his neck. “Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

- He’s quite pretty, with thick brown hair and rosy cheeks

- “I went to the bathroom and got lost,” you hear him murmur first year and raise an eyebrow “What’s your excuse?”

- He lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair

- “That’s fair,” he admits. And then after a moment he says:

- “I’m hiding”

- Your eyebrows thread together

- “Like from a crazy ex lover or..?”

- He laughs again, shaking his head

- “No, from my professor.” And then after a moment, before you can ask ‘is it because you’re having an affair with them’ he says:

- “They want me to be prefect for my house next year, and I don’t know how I feel about that”

- You let that sink in,

- “I know I should do it- it would give me an opportunity to represent my house, and look out for all my friends, and I’m sure my dad would be awfully proud but-“

- But it’s a lot of responsibility

- You get it.

- You sit beside him on the floor

- “You should do it-“ and before he can give a reason why you say:

- “You would get your own bathroom and I think that means a lot in a place like this”

- He laughs again, only this time the laugh leaves in loud gaffs, somehow you feel like this is the first real laugh the boy has shown you

- “I’ve heard a lot of reasons, but having my own bathroom is definitely a first”

- He looks at you in a way that makes your hair stand on end and your skin feel hot.

- “I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory.” He says with an extended hand

- Ah, so this is pretty boy Diggory.

- He does kinda look like a young Robert Pattinson to be honest

- You take his hand in yours giving a firm shake

- “ (Y/N) (L/N) “ and you see his eyebrows shoot up

- “ (L/N) like the-“

- “ Yeah that’s my mum, the famous Auror”

- Cedric’s mouth curls up in a lopsided grin

- “I was going to say inventor- the inventor for the portable infinity box”

- Ah yes, your dad was an inventor. You didn’t know much about it though. Just that his inventions had left you a small fortune

- “My parents were both pretty remarkable huh?”

- And even though they’re not really your parents, and this isn’t really your body, you feel a little sad thinking about them.

- Before you can give Cedric a chance to offer his condolences, you stand up brushing off your robe.

- “We’ll come on Mr. Prefect in the making, show me to where I’m to be sorted” you say with a wave of a hand

- He grins

- “As you wish”

- Maybe being in Hufflepuff wouldn’t be so bad,

- and if you can manage to get close to Cedric, maybe he’ll let you use the prefects bathroom

- Huh, that does sound enticing

- Okay change of plans, you’ll get into Hufflepuff

- For the nice bathroom privileges

- When you get into the hall you feel all eyes turn to look to you

- And even though you’re an adult, you feel awfully embarrassed

- “If you get in Hufflepuff let’s get a butterbeer to celebrate, my treat..” Cedric whispers in your ear, and you catch a glimpse of the lopsided grin curled onto his face before he pushes you forward towards the group of first years

- Your face still feels hot when your name gets called

- You gulp as you move towards the chair

- Well it’s do or die- and you don’t plan on dying here

- You gulp again as the cold wood presses against your thighs as you take a seat

- All you have to do is ask for it to put you in -

- Wait

- What house were you aiming for again?

- Logic dictates Ravenclaw, it’s your best chance-

- But well, you’ve always wanted to be friends with Fred and George it just seems like so much fun

- And then, Slytherin’s not so bad, it would be nice if you could change peoples opinions about that house

- Oh and Hufflepuff might be nice too, you would have someone to look out for you- and you in turn can look out for others like Susan and Hannah

- And so it seems you’ve made peace, no matter which house the hat chooses, you’re happy with the outcome because there’s good and bad in all of them

- These things aren’t one dimensional, they nuanced. And that’s okay

- You feel the hat place on your head, and several long moments of silence pass

- .

- ..

- ...

- ....

- Shouldn’t something be happening by now?

- Like at least whispers in your ear from the hat or something right?

- “I-“ it finally chokes out

- Ah good a decision

- Well what’s your future going to be like?

- “I don’t know” the hat finally sputters, a collective gasp filling the room

- You drop your face into your hands, as small murmurs begin to spread through the tables

- “F*ck me” you mumble

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter preferences #harry james potter #harry potter reader insert #Harry Potter x reader #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #Fred Weasley imagine #Cedric Diggory imagine #cedric diggory x you #Cedric Diggory x reader #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x reader

[moonbaby26]

Title: Telling the Truth

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader, but also Magneto and Peter father/son interaction!

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, you and the others finally defeat Apocalypse, just to end up stranded together until a way home can be devised. During the wait, you get to clear up some things with Peter on your feelings for him. Yet all goes sideways when Peter finally works up the courage to tell Magneto the truth about being his son.

Notes: For those that know the movies by heart, I made some more changes closer to the comics obviously. You’ll see.

Warnings: Some cursing, especially during the impromptu therapy session of Magneto and Peter unleashing their emotional baggage.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

You didn’t know what you felt anymore. In a way it was like being outside of yourself. Just watching from somewhere far away even as you were pouring every ounce of strength you had left into your hands, blasting Apocalypse’s shield over and over.

You were trying to cause even the slightest, tangible bit of damage to him, just as Magneto was, just as Scott was. And yet, even with the three of you giving all you had, the monster had already gathered himself up again. With just the movement of one hand, he’d thrown Hank violently to the side when Beast had gotten too close while trying to help you all.

And only moments after Hank’s unconscious body had come to rest, Scott had faltered as well. In exhaustion, he’d finally had to close his eyes, pulling his glasses back down as he’d staggered backward. Then with another flick of the wrist, Apocalypse had all too easily slammed the boy into a building, the wall he hit then swelling out to cover and encase him like some living horror.

You could still hear Scott screaming even as you realized Apocalypse had now turned his attention towards you. With his every step closer, that numbness grew within you. You were too weak to fly away now, after all the energy you’d thrown at him, you were barely still standing.

But you could see the irritation in his expression. It was obvious that he couldn’t understand your loyalty to one another. Why any of you would be fighting this hard, just to die.

He kept reusing the same tricks, but they were effective. As the earth shot up around you like tendrils on a vine, you couldn’t break free. As quick and flexible as it was, it only felt like concrete wrapping all around you. It pinned your arms to your sides and wrapped around your legs, chest, and throat.

With a clenching of Apocalypse’s fist, it all drew tighter. And when your energy field finally gave out, the last of your shielding went away with it. As that light faded, the pain of being slowly crushed exploded through you. But you couldn’t scream when you couldn’t even breathe.

Apocalypse would have Xavier. That was all he wanted, then outright ignoring the straining of Magneto in the sky above him, Erik desperately trying to still do anything on his own now.

But as your sight blurred and your senses faded, it was the most surreal thing, you could still recognize Jean’s silhouette as she also moved out into midair.

Yet it wasn’t her, at least not as you knew her. Somehow that thought had still floated through your dying mind, before the world exploded all over again.

Even without being powered up, you could feel that surge. Like a pressure wave of pure, raw force. It seared across everything, hot and burning. But like a warm fire, for those far enough from the center, it only revitalized them. Hank was awakened suddenly, soon enough breaking the pieces that held you and giving you a chance to breathe again before he ran on all fours to also free Scott.

And yet for Apocalypse, someone far too close to that center, and the real target of Jean’s fury, the only option was to burn.

You were on your knees as you still tried to catch your breath, but you all knew opportunity when you saw it. She’d broken through his shield, torn through his armor. But even as his flesh seared away, it was still trying to heal back just as quickly.

Magneto had impaled him to the spot with multiple steel bars as soon as his shield had fallen, but Apocalypse was a coward. As soon as that tide had started to turn, he tried to flee.

Hank called out, “He’s getting away!” As Apocalypse tried to teleport, an energy shield rebuilding to close around him.

Even digging as deep as you possibly could, you only had enough left to make a large orb from one palm. That white light encasing just one of your hands rather than your whole body as you realized you had to make this last shot count.

And just as you thought you were not going to have another opening to get past his shield, lightning began striking down right on top of him. A hole broke in his field with the force, the white haired girl from before surprising you all with a sudden change of allegiance.

You threw your orb at once then, controlling it to come right through the opening she had made. It exploded directly against Apocalypse’s head and neck, further blasting away muscle and bone that no longer had time to heal under all the combined attacks.

But it was still Jean who dealt the killing blow. With one final powerful surge of her energy, screaming, she erased the last of him. His body broke into only ash under her red aura. It spread into the sky all around her, like wings of flame before extinguishing at last.

You were still waiting for some final confirmation that it was really over though, that you’d won. After a few moments of only the sound of the receding wind, and the sand lightly blowing past with it, it was like a collective acceptance at last.

You fell back with a large exhale, exhausted as you laid onto your back in the dirt. In the sky, you could see Magneto and Jean hover back to where Xavier was, no doubt to check on him now. You could only imagine if Magneto would soon be apologizing to his old friend, or not, for his part in all this.

But you didn’t rest in your silence for long. As you heard footsteps, you turned your head enough to see Hank’s clawed feet approaching. But he wasn’t alone. He had Raven on one side and Peter on the other, Peter more so the one he was propping up with that broken leg.

“Raven wants to go see Charles,” Hank said by way of some explanation, awkwardly helping Peter sit back down beside you as the other winced in pain. “I need you two to stay here while we see if there’s any medical supplies intact nearby, and while we try to figure out how on earth we’re going to get home now.”

While Hank spoke, you thought Raven might have still been giving you a kind of odd look. As if she was trying to make sense of something. You could assume what, after the abrupt display between you and Peter before. But you were just too tired to feel anything other than relief right now that everyone was still here at all.

“Okay,” You said, maybe just to check that you could talk, as much as your throat still hurt from being squeezed earlier. But the two older mutants were then gone just as quickly. Hank had picked up Raven, jumping over to the exposed second floor of the building where the Professor and the others were.

Peter was unnaturally quiet afterward. At least for a while before he finally looked down at you. “So holy shit, right?”

You glanced up. That phrase really could reference about anything that had happened today. You smirked tiredly. “Could you be a little more specific please?”

“I mean, your friend just vaporized that dude.” Peter answered, waving one hand. He couldn’t stop from being animated even if he tried it seemed, even when injured. “Did you know she could do that? Like damn, we could have been done an hour ago.”

You tried not to laugh. It’d hurt your ribs too much if you did. “No. I’d say she didn’t even know she could do that.”

“Well, I know who not to piss off,” He said, before going quiet for a bit again.

You still hadn’t been around him all that long in actual length of hours. But for all you’d now been through since first meeting at the mansion, it seemed like this morning was lifetimes ago. And you could sense that his mind was churning with something else he actually wanted to say.

You looked up to him again after a while. “You okay?” You asked. Which probably was still a bit ironic for you to question, as even though he had the broken leg, you were also the one laying in the dirt, too tired and hurting to properly sit up.

It still took him some time to respond though. Which told you he actually was trying to weigh his words somewhat before speaking. But when they did finally start to come out, he was still pausing and hesitating. “I’m, um, first of all, sorry about the whole surprise kiss there. I figured you’d just slap the crap out of me or something. But I thought we were going to die too, and I...I just-”

He was looking at the ground now, like there would be some answer there that would help him verbalize what he was trying to say. “I know I screw up a lot and let things go that I shouldn’t let go I guess. I already flaked out with the whole reason I came up to your house this morning, the whole Magneto thing. And I didn’t want to do that twice, not telling someone the truth again all in one day just because I was being chicken shit. You’re just really cool, and you know...I just wanted you to know that.” He looked back at you at last, as if trying to judge if any of this was making sense at all.

It did and it didn’t of course. You didn’t understand at all what he meant about why he came up to the house in the first place, or anything about Magneto. But you didn’t want to question on that when he was already making himself vulnerable with the main point you thought he was trying to make to you at least.

“Peter, I kissed you back remember? I mean yes, there was a lot of stress involved. But it doesn’t make it a mistake.” Now you were the one perhaps putting too much optimism in your thoughts here, and taking a risk. “Maybe it just made it happen a lot sooner than it naturally would have. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want that, you know, eventually.”

Again, you’d only known each other for a day in real terms. Of course it was too much. But everybody had to start somewhere, right? You had no idea what a serious relationship could be like though, you’d never had one. Just awkward first dates that never became second dates because it was always just weird. You didn’t feel anything that way for those people and it was always evident so quickly.

And yet here came this guy, dropped into your life like a bomb in a time of utter chaos and danger, and you thought you were now finally understanding why your friends seemed to go so crazy when they told you about their “crushes” at school. It was just something that clicked. You couldn’t put rational thought to emotions like this.

“So you wanted to kiss me?” Peter finally asked in a way that was somewhat silly to you, because of course you wouldn’t have done anything like that if you didn’t actually want to. And yet you couldn’t make any dry reply to that effect when you saw the honest expression on his face as he’d asked.

Was it really so hard for him to believe that he would be wanted? You were surprised, genuinely. Of course he was quirky and odd, well maybe a great deal odd. But for all the flashy appearance and smugness you knew he could radiate, did he not actually see his own worth?

You touched his hand lightly, as you sat up at last. It hurt, but he needed to see your eyes to believe you now. You knew this was important. “You’ve had me flustered since you first introduced yourself this morning. I’m not used to that, at all, so it’s really new. I don’t really know how it’s all supposed to work, or what I’m supposed to do next. But I can at least speak to how I feel. I want to be around you more, I want to be close.”

The physical and the emotional went hand in hand really. But, you’d both have to figure out your own comfort level on that. You continued, trying to put that into words. He didn’t owe anything to you. “You need to remember it depends what you want too though. I can like you with or without kissing again. If you just want a friend, that’s okay too.”

He chuckled, seeming kind of taken aback. “Hell...” He looked away a moment, running his hand through his hair. It was obviously a nervous gesture, as it only made it look messier. “I’d really be a pathetic boyfriend you know. Like, epically bad.”

“You think so?” You asked, trying not to press too hard, but also not wanting him to keep seeming like he didn’t deserve any of this kind of attention.

“I’ll annoy you eventually, you’ll regret it.” He kept on, a little bit quieter then.

“How do you know I’m not annoying?” You countered. Of course you hoped you weren’t, you seemed to get along well with the other students, and they ran the gamut of so many kinds of personalities. But really, how was it fair for him to assume any fault would only be his?

“Pfft.” He looked back to you. “You literally glow. It’s not even metaphorical. You’re like perfect, and-“

Did Apocalypse ding him in the head too? You were having none of that. “I’m nothing of the sort. And neither are you.” But you smiled before he could take that negatively. “And I’m totally good with that.”

He quieted again, just watching you for an awkward while, before finally responding. “I guess we can try. I mean as long as you’re admitting now that your taste in guys is really this bad and you won’t get mad at me later for saying I told you so.”

It didn’t seem proper to laugh, but he made you want to. “I’ll overlook you insulting the both of us. But yes, if you want to try, then so do I.”

“Okay.” He answered. Then seemed to realize the depth of this a little more. “Shit...didn’t expect to get mutant-napped by the government, fight a god, break my leg, and become a boyfriend all in the same day.”

“And rescue a whole mutant school,” You added.

He shrugged purposefully for effect. “That’s what heroes do, babe.”

The pivot from so self conscious that he could barely accept your attraction to him, to now wanting to brag again really was something to behold. You started to quip something back, but stopped when you saw his face go serious. He was now looking at something abruptly in the distance, so you turned your head to follow his gaze.

It was Magneto.

You straightened up as well, now fully sitting up before Erik landed in front of you both.

He was direct, speaking immediately. “It will still be some time before Charles’ little CIA friend can get her cohorts to arrange your transport out of here.”

You didn’t know if the distaste in his tone was more about Moira being a government agent, or just dislike to her presence here entirely, but he only continued. “And given that Hank has no idea how to field dress wounds without access to his full laboratory, I get that responsibility.”

Peter shifted, abruptly realizing the meaning then. “I’m fine,” He lied.

Of course he absolutely wasn’t fine. But clearly distrusting about whatever Magneto now had planned and the inevitable pain it could mean for him. Peter hadn’t moved his leg at all in the entire time you’d been sitting here together.

Erik only answered him sharply, “You need a splint before you do even more damage to yourself.”

As he then raised his hands, metal rebar started to drag itself out from the broken buildings all around you, leaving no question that this was no longer a choice for Peter.

It was hard not to think that just a short time ago, Magneto had been using that same kind of power to impale Apocalypse over and over again. And yet now he showed how controlled he could be, breaking the thin rebar into lengths that could run all the way from Peter’s thigh to just above his ankle, and even bending them slightly to match the natural curvature of the knee.

“Lift his leg.” Erik spoke.

You’d been so distracted with watching him work the metal, that it took you a moment to realize the command was for you. You looked briefly to him, then to Peter. You and Peter both shared the same nervous expression.

If you just used your hands, you felt like you would only hurt him, not being able to support his whole leg in a way that wouldn’t put more pressure on the break. But you also didn’t know if you’d rested long enough sitting here to use your powers at all either.

Someone as intimidating as Magneto standing over you both impatiently certainly didn’t help.

But if it meant less discomfort for Peter, you’d at least try. You lifted both your hands, facing your palms towards Peter’s leg while focusing as best you could. Normally what would have been fairly simple now took a good deal of effort in your still drained state. But a faint white glow did start to move across his leg, eventually covering it from his hip all the way to the end of his foot.

Once enveloped, you raised just your fingertips, lifting his entire leg gently, just high enough that Magneto could place the metal bracing around it.

You heard Peter make a small sound of pain as Erik had circled other metal strips around the longer ones that ran parallel with his leg, snugging it all into place. But beyond that, the unconventional first aid seemed to be successful. His leg was effectively now immobilized as you let it back down softly, the light fading away as you let go.

“I look like a Mad Max reject,” Peter commented absently, breaking the silence after a moment as he poked at the new metal contraption.

“You’ll be running and finding trouble again soon enough I’m sure. We still heal faster than the lesser species.” Magneto responded, but not all that surprising to you really that he would still find ways to throw jabs at non mutants even in an unrelated conversation.

What did surprise you was that when Erik had started to turn to no doubt leave again now that his task was done, it was Peter that stopped him.

“Hey, wait a second.”

You didn’t think you were imagining a new anxious sound in Peter’s voice either, and it bloomed all new nerves in you as well. What was it between the two of them? There had been confusing hints of something ever since you’d gotten to Egypt, but Peter had never elaborated to you. Not that he’d really had much chance either though.

But just because of who Magneto was, it was easy to imagine things taking a dangerous turn if the wrong thing was said or done, but you had no idea how to help when you didn’t even know what had Peter so focused on him.

You felt him touch your hand, like a physical desire for support, as he asked Erik in the most serious voice you’d ever heard from him. “Do you remember a woman named Magda Eisenhardt?”

Magneto went rigid, and you froze as well. Very suddenly you were wondering if the others could still see you from here. If they were paying you any mind at all right now. But the only person here fast enough to actually get away from Erik, was here beside you with one wing clipped essentially. There’d be no escape.

“How do you know that name?” He’d turned fully back to face you both, eyes locked on Peter.

By the way Peter had seemed to pause his breathing, he wasn’t immune to the sense of threat either, but he still answered. “Well she goes by Maximoff now. She’s my mother.”

You felt like a helpless bystander watching some kind of disaster unfolding in slow motion. The frightening look in Magneto’s eyes versus the way Peter was now almost squeezing your hand painfully. The mental gymnastics your mind was now going through were chaotic. Did Magneto do something to Peter’s mother? Were they enemies? Was this some vengeance quest?

But if any of that were true, why on earth would Peter confront him now? With both of you already injured with not a chance to survive or defend against someone of Magneto’s power?

Whatever frightful things were burning through Erik’s mind as well still silenced him long enough for Peter to speak again though. And it all came out then.

“I was too afraid to tell you earlier, but I guess I’m just ripping the damn band aid off everything now. She told me about you. How she left because she was afraid of you too. But she didn’t tell you about being pregnant. She went to the states, changed her last name and had me. Me and my sister Wanda. Twins. But I didn’t know any of that about you when I busted you out of the Pentagon those years back. I didn’t know who you really were. That you were the guy I thought had just run off, or maybe you were dead. I didn’t know my father was in a damned plastic cell less than ten fucking miles away all those years when we had nothing!”

A chill went through you. The anger in Peter’s voice towards the end only added to the shock as you were forced to process everything at once. This was why. God. Just...shit.

You were all silent after that. For an unbearable amount of time there was silence.

When Erik finally did speak, you heard the anger in him too, but it was different. There was a raw pain in that, something so extremely deep coming out of him now. His fist was clenching. “She was right, boy. If it’s all true, then Magda was goddamn right to do everything in her power to hide you from me and to try to put an ocean between us back then.”

With a little horror, you could see the smallest fragments of metallic debris starting to quiver along the ground. His emotion carrying over into the environment now.

“I did remarry after I escaped Washington and went back to Europe. We even had a little girl. Anya.” There was the slightest sheen of wetness in his eyes, even though sheer anger was the only look still coming from them. “They killed them. My wife. My daughter. The humans killed them because of who I was!”

He gritted his teeth, and you could plainly see a couple tears escape his eyes then before disappearing back behind the sides of his helmet.

“They would have done the same to you and your sister eventually. To Magda too. She knew she’d be caught in the crossfire even when I didn’t. She knew what I really was.”

“It doesn’t make it right!” Peter’s voice surprised you as it broke, uneven and just as emotional as he yelled back at Erik. But he looked down again afterward, his hand trembling against yours. “I’m sorry what they did, that was our little sister too then. But you can’t just lie to someone their whole life. My mom shouldn’t have waited so long to tell me! I could have helped you...maybe it could have been different. Maybe we-”

“It would have been the same result.” Erik said coldly. “Because I would have been the same.”

With that he flew off abruptly, completely out of sight before Peter cursed under his breath, looking defeated. “Goddamnit. He really is an asshole...”

You opened your mouth to respond, maybe to try and comfort him, but then hesitated. There was so much to digest on both sides here. “I think he might just need time to cool off...” You finally said, as delicately as you could.

“Correct.” The Professor’s voice popped into both your heads then, leading you both to glance towards the broken building where the others had been, to now see they were all standing on the edge looking towards you.

“Apologies for eavesdropping,” Xavier continued. “But you were getting quite loud, both verbally and mentally, and I wanted to make sure you were safe as I had instructed the others not to interfere.”

Peter sighed, maybe a bit embarrassed at the audience, but also still clearly unused to having anyone in his head as he replied aloud. “That’s so damn weird. Guess you’re good now then?”

“Getting there, thanks to all of you.” Xavier answered with a slight amount of humor, “But helmet or no helmet, I don’t need to read Erik to tell you that he’ll be back. His anger is only towards himself, not to you. You did the right thing by letting him know the truth. He’ll come around.”

There was another odd feeling of amusement from the Professor after a moment though. “In fact, knowing how possessive Erik can be, I dare say you may get more than you bargained for, Peter, in parental attention. Good luck to you too, (Y/N). Though I’d think he’ll approve of you once he realizes how much you genuinely care about his son.”

You stared, knowing Xavier couldn’t see your ‘are you for real/horrified’ expression from this distance but that he’d definitely feel it.

You saw Raven make an exaggerated gesture of a thumbs up from way over there and Peter laughed tiredly. “We’re totally screwed aren’t we?” You sighed and he just leaned into you, teasing. “See? Too early to say it yet? Nope, it’s not. Told ya so. Told ya so. Terrible choice of a boyfriend, babe!”

You put your head on your knees as he rubbed one of your shoulders. You mumbled numbly. “I just want to sleep for sixteen hours.”

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #x men #marvel #peter maximoff #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #xmen #xmen fic #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x oc #pietro x reader #peter maximof x reader #x men apocalypse #dadneto #magneto #erik lensherr

[vanderlindemorgans]

Mr. Perfectly Fine

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Two weeks after breaking up with you, you're picking up the pieces of your heart that had been broken by your now ex-boyfriend Javier Peña. You want answers, a clear reason as to why things fell apart. The only problem is that Javier refuses to even acknowledge your existence

Warnings: A little bit of period-typical sexism, but not much, Javier being an asshole, mentions of prostitution, some low level typical Narcos themes

Authors Note: So this idea has been swimming around in my head ever since the song was released last week. I already had a Bad Breakup fic for Javi planned but I’ve decided to extend it into three parts! Also reader speaks in English bc I do not understand a word of Spanish other than that one line in Ultraviolence. None of this is beta read, so there’s bound to be a few mistakes - if I get anything really wrong then let me know. 

Part 2 | MASTERLIST

The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. From the moment someone walked in they could feel it, the stifling air of awkwardness surrounding every single person in the room as they pretended to carry on with their work, averting their eyes to the spectacle presented in front of them, a war of agitation rife between two agents sitting across the room from each other as well as the unfortunate Steve Murphy who just happened to sit between you two. From your end it was simple silent fury, directed right across the room to where your partner, or rather, ex-partner, Javier Peña was seated at his own desk, casually leafing through mountains of paperwork and suspect photos as if you weren’t practically shooting daggers at him from across the way. 

He wasn’t doing anything, and that was exactly the problem - you wanted him to do something, say something, anything, if only it would show that he even gave a damn about the situation at all. But he never did. Every morning when he walked into work carrying a black coffee in his hands, his top shirt buttons hanging loose as they always seemed to be and his hair mustled as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly, he said nothing. He walked past you as if you weren’t even there, ignoring your stares and crashing down at his desk, ready to continue the endless chase for Pablo Escobar. And it infuriated you. Oh lord, how it made you burn. With every refusal of acknowledgement he gave, you became even more tempted to march right over to him and strike him across his stupid handsome face. You never did, of course, and you never would. Physical confrontation just wasn’t your style. Nevertheless, the mere thought of such did bring you a small bit of joy to your broken little soul. 

Things had been going like this for two weeks now. You hadn’t expected much on the first morning back in the office after what had happened between you. A part of you wanted him to come grovelling to you, insisting that he’d made a mistake and begging for you to take him back. That in itself was nothing more than a fantasy: Javier Peña was too proud to grovel. If anything, his behaviour shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest. He was the one who broke up with you over a 27 second phone call, after all. 

Despite taking that into consideration, you thought by now you would have heard something from him. He’d have to talk to you eventually since you two were working the same case. Apparently no, because it appeared that he went out of his way to deliver every piece of correspondence meant for you through to Murphy, letting him act as a sort of unwilling middle man between the two of you. You knew that Steve already felt awkward enough having to be in the same room with the two of you whilst this was all going on, so your sympathy for him deepened when he was thrust into the even more awkward position of messenger. Sometimes you swore he made up fake meetings with Messina to attend to or new leads to investigate just so he could get away from the suffocating air of hate around you and Javi. And really, who could blame him?

You felt your nose twitch in annoyance as you trained your eyes forward to him, periodically looking down at various files of intel to keep up the facade that you were indeed working, though you eyes were across the room for most of the time, searching for any sign of emotion on his face. Nothing, zilch, not a single trace, his expression only showcasing general indifference, as if nothing were wrong at all. You gripped your hand tightly around the edge of your pen, thinking of everything you wished you could say to him. How’s your heart after breaking mine, Javi? For your information, ever since you pulled that bullshit on the phone, I’ve been miserable as all fucking hell. Before all that happened, I wanted to try. I was even ready to try to forgive you after that stupid fight, but you just had to make that call. You know what? I’d actually hate you less if you just acted like you cared a little that we broke up. But noooo, you’re just Mr. Perfectly Fine, what with your ignoring me and your casual cruelty, your always showing up at just the right time, and your insincerity, and the way you think everything fucking revolves around you. Well, I’ll tell you something Javi - I’m done! Absolutely done with you and your shit. Jump off a cliff for all I care!

“I’ll be back later on, gonna go follow up on a few leads” your thoughts were cut off by Javier’s abrupt announcement, your eyes gracing themselves upwards to watch him hastily scoop his jacket off the back of his chair and skulk his way out of the office. Every bitter word you wanted to say to him burned on your tongue, though you only managed to settle on a simple yet seething glare while his eyes glazed over you, rushing himself out of the room as quickly as humanly possible. You noticed Murphy look over his shoulder like he was about to say something but it was too late - Javi was already long gone. 

_______

Letting out a low groan of frustration, you slammed the door to your car shut and threw your head back against the seats headrest, the stress of the job and the emotional weight of the day combining to make you even more tired than you would usually be at the end of a long day. Javier hadn’t been back to the office since he left, leaving both you and Murphy to pick up all the work he’d left in his absence. If that wasn’t infuriating enough, the thought of him running around all of Bogotá just to avoid seeing you brought your anger to new unreachable heights. It was annoying - him not being around should have left your mind to be free to do some actual goddamn work but instead, just as before, every single moment he occupied your mind, living there permanently as if it were his right. How much more infuriating could that man get?

Thankfully, the drive home wasn’t any more of a nuisance than usual, since the apartment complex you shared with the others wasn’t that far from the embassy, so that was a small positive at the very least. Once you’d pulled up to the lot you were feeling a lot more level-headed than you did before, and were mainly looking forward to kicking back in pajamas and watching whatever was on TV with the leftover pizza from the night before. It wouldn’t do much to take your mind off everything with Javi, though, you knew that much. Still, a small bit of bliss was still bliss. 

Your apartment was down the hall from Javier’s, which had made it easier for you two when you were together but now felt like another sore reminder of what had been. Sighing heavily to yourself, you kicked the door to your car shut and stuffed the keys into the pocket of your jeans. A minor annoyance, sure, nothing you couldn’t handle though. You wondered if he would even be back right now. He had to be, right? An idea started to creep into your head at that thought, taking root and festering until you had practically talked yourself into doing it already, descending up the stairs with a sense of purpose behind you. Maybe if you showed up on his doorstep you could force him to confront you, make him look you in the eye. Any sort of acknowledgement to what you two had would be nice at this point, and if you had to take action yourself to get him to do it, then so be it. 

The closer you got to his door the more you felt you should turn back, a feeling of uneasiness beginning to form somewhere deep in your chest. This might be a bad idea. What if you two got into a fight again? As much as you wanted nothing more than to hurl some carefully crafted insults at Javi and his stupid gorgeous face, you weren’t exactly up for a full on battle that could result from it. Would it be better to simply go home and ignore your problems a little more?

Once you were only inches from the door was when you started to hear it. At first it sounded muffled, on account of the fact that there was a physical barrier between you and them, and you weren’t quite sure exactly what you heard at first but when you pressed yourself closer to the door you could hear it all clear as day - a woman moaning loudly on the other side, whimpering out Javi’s name and betraying exactly what was going on within the walls of the apartment. You felt your breath hitch in your chest, the world feeling like it was collapsing around you from the very second you realised why he had left early for the day. Unable to stop yourself, you tore yourself away from the apartment door and ran down the hall to your own place, tears falling at a rapid pace that refused to stop. You didn’t know if the woman in there was an informant, or a prostitute, or some random chick he’d picked up in a bar after ditching work for the day. In the end none of it mattered though. All that mattered is that it wasn’t you in there with him, like it used to be, like it should be, and that fact made you hurt all the more fiercely.

Fumbling with the keys to your apartment, you choked on a low sob working your way through the waterfall of tears in your eyes to try and wrestle the key into the lock. Through your haste, you accidentally let them fall loose from your palms and onto the ground, prompting a loud “fuck!” to ring out from your throat, loud enough for everyone in the neighboring apartments to hear. Not like you really cared about that, to be honest. With your hands shaking, you finally managed to throw the door to your apartment open, slamming it back closed with a thud and leaning back against it with your head in your hands, slowly descending to the ground to finally give in to the wave of sorrow threatening to claim you. 

You’d known his reputation before you started seeing each other, that he slept with all his informants and chased every woman who crossed his path in Colombia. Actually, it had made you hesitant to get involved with him in the first place but once you two had bitten the bullet and finally admitted your damn feelings for each other, Javier had ceased with his wild ways, becoming solely dedicated to you and you alone. And sure, you two weren’t together anymore, there wasn’t anything stopping him from being with other women. It felt like a deeper twist of the knife though, what you’d heard from behind that door, and it practically confirmed the sickening feeling that had been building in you since the first day back in the office after your breakup, when Javi refused to even look you in the eye and acted as if you’d vanished off the face of the planet. He doesn’t care about me anymore. 

Moving on had been that much easier for him. While it took everything in you to get up each day, he was doing absolutely ok. More than ok, if the sounds coming from his apartment were anything to go by. He was even already settling back into his old reputation. You should’ve known it was too good to be true - the manwhore of the DEA, Javier Peña actually wanting to settle down with one woman, actually caring about a girl beyond what she could be in bed. You remembered the raised eyebrows when you two had first gotten together: for most, it just seemed so out of nowhere. You’d ignored them all, remembering all the times you’d be tangled up with Javi on the couch, his head nestled into your neck while your heart raced a mile a minute, hearing every sweet nothing and praise he’d whisper to you. Stupid girl, you should’ve known. 

_______

After such a huge revelation, you thought things might’ve changed. In what way they would, you didn’t really know. Maybe the change would be sudden, such as you finally working up enough of a resolve to actually go confront Javier on his shit. Or maybe you’d take a leaf out of his book and start trying to seem like nothing was wrong at all, maybe go out on a few dates with some other guys. One of the Search Bloc guys had been eyeing you up every time he came over with Carillo to talk strategy, maybe you could go out with him. Though you knew it wouldn’t help - unlike Javier, who was actually more than happy with where you two had left things, you weren’t, and acting like it was just to throw it in his face wasn’t really going to work if he didn’t care enough to look over at you in the first place. And even then, the idea of falling into bed with some random man that you didn’t care for all that much in the name of moving on didn’t seem right to you. 

Nevertheless, you expected some form of change to happen the morning after when you came into work to see Javier sitting at his desk, on the phone to someone you couldn’t care less about. But nope. Nothing had changed. You sat down and stared across the room at him, just like you’d done every day for the past two weeks, and he ignored your stare to continue with writing something down on his notepad, just like usual. 

Maybe the change would be gradual, you thought, staring back over at the man in the midst of your ire with one of your coldest glares. And sure enough, around midday Steve had come up to you asking to retrieve something from the evidence room for him. Apparently he needed to look over something but was too busy with his own work to go fetch it - you knew on some level that his excuse was bullshit as it had been a pretty slow day for all of you but sure, whatever, if it got you out of that room and away from Javi for at least a few blissful moments that was fine by you. 

Reaching out for the door to the evidence room, you pushed it open and admitted yourself into the crowded space, twisting around to slam the door shut firmly behind you. Before you were rows of shelves containing every bit of evidence the DEA had accumulated against Escobar - there wasn’t as much as there probably should have been due to the fire that had broken out at the Palace of Justice years before yet the amount contained in that small room was still impressive in size. Moving between the shelves, you scanned the rows of boxes looking for the one Steve had asked for in particular, taking your time with it as there was a small sense of serenity to being in that room. For once it felt like you could breathe. You didn’t have to sit at a desk across from your ex, you didn’t have to go home to your apartment that was literally across the hall from his, you could be alone and not feel suffocated by his ever-present shadow over your life. Though, in some way you supposed, your own memories could still prove just as suffocating as Javier’s own godforsaken presence.

As if by thinking of him you’d magically summoned him, the man himself strode through the door to the evidence room, appearing to be in quite a hurry however once he noticed you were there he stopped, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to their usual stoic glare. You could barely contain your own disappointment at his sudden appearance, letting your face twist into a low scowl as you watched him walk down the aisle you were standing in, his eyes dashing from row to row searching for any place to look so they could avoid landing on you. Anger bubbled within you, a thousand different sarcastic or otherwise snarky remarks coming to mind that you could throw out at him, every one of them becoming increasingly more scathing the more you thought about it. Letting out a small sigh, you forced yourself to push all those delightful insults to the back of your mind, not wanting to become caught up in any more personal drama than you had to. Get the box and go. It’s that simple. There doesn’t need to be anymore to this. 

A minute later your eyes landed on the fabled box you’d been searching for, shoved into a corner and so out of the way you almost missed it completely. You thought of asking Steve what was in the box that he needed so bad when out of nowhere you heard a familiar voice speak up from behind you.

“Listen, I...about what happened on the phone a few weeks ago-”. 

So, it seems Mr. Perfectly Fine has finally decided to break his silence. In an instant you twisted yourself around to face him, quickly taking in his serious expression and stiff stature before your eyes met for the first time in two weeks.“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to speak to me now? That’s a first. I thought you were steadfast gonna ignore me for the rest of my life” you spat, not allowing him any form of politeness or decorum in your reply. Why should you? He’d ignored you for weeks. He deserved this. 

You watched as Javier tensed at your words, clearly not expecting the bite back that you had given to him. There was some part of his expression that almost looked sheepish in a way, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted this conversation to happen at all. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just-” he started with you rolling your eyes and cutting in almost immediately. “Save it for someone who actually gives a shit. Shouldn’t be hard since you don’t seem to care all too much yourself” you snarled, an action which only made him even more tense. 

“I do care, and I kind of always have fucking cared so if you could calm down a little and stop getting yourself worked up we can actually talk about what happened. Can you do that for me at the bare minimum?” he retorted, a harsh edge appearing in his tone that indicated he was already becoming frustrated with your attitude. You knew Javi’s emotions like the back of your hand - he wasn’t a patient man, and he had no time for snark or sarcasm, though only if it was directed at him. When it came to himself, he was more than happy to indulge in a small bit of pettiness. You didn’t much care at that moment though: as far as you were concerned, he lost the right to a civilised discussion when he broke up with you over the phone and then pretended you were invisible for weeks. It’s not like things can get any worse than they are now, right?

“Oh, sure, sure, we can totally talk. How about I start then?” you fired back, every word simmering with venom and dripping raw with sarcastic edge. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the shelf to take him in, from the creases in his tie to his tired eyes staring straight into you. Wait, tired? You didn’t realise it until then but he had been looking pretty tired lately, almost like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Then again, his sleep schedule had never been quite stellar, so that wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. And he was probably up all night with that woman I heard him with, you reminded yourself bitterly.  “Look at you, so dignified in your well pressed suit, so smug and self-involved, so far above me in every way, so far above that you won’t even look me in the eye or acknowledge my presence. Tell me, Javier, has it really been that easy to forget about me?” you taunted. “Though I supposed when you’re seducing every whore in Colombia into your bed it would be easy, wouldn’t it?”. 

Javier was caught off guard by your remark, not anticipating that you would go so far as to accuse him of returning to his old ways. “First of all, she was an informant, and I had to leave yesterday to go meet up with her. Things ran into overtime and that’s the reason I wasn’t back. I thought you of all people understood that gathering intel is a vital part to the fight against Escobar?” he replied, that last line at the end being delivered with only a little more underlying snip than the rest yet it was more than enough for you to feel around thirty percent more pissed at him. 

You scoffed at his lies, your lip curling into a snarl at his attempt at patronising you. “Don’t patronise me. I’m well aware of the ins and outs of this job, in case you’ve forgotten I’ve been working with the DEA for eight years now, which is why I’m calling bullshit on your pathetic excuse for a lie. You do realise we live in the same building right? I know you were doing more than having a friendly discussion with her in there, in fact, I quite literally heard you two through the goddamn walls on my way back home. And before you try to spin some shit about how it was necessary for the case, you and I both know that fucking the informant isn’t a standard part of procedure. You don’t see Murphy bedding any of his sources of intel, do you?”. 

“Murphy’s married, princesa” he deadpanned, throwing in that little nickname he had for you that two weeks ago would have made your heart flutter but at this time and in the context he used it only soured your mood further. “That’s besides the point. You’ve been acting like I never even mattered to you at all, and it’s honestly making me wonder if I ever did? Especially since I apparently didn’t deserve the dignity of a proper breakup and got a 27 second phone call instead. Tell me, when did you change your mind? I thought I was supposed to be the one you were waiting for all your life. Guess that was pretty easy to change, wasn’t it?” you snapped.

“Hermosa, can you just fucking listen for one minute?! God, you’re impossible sometimes” Javier shouted, that infamous temper of his rising towards the surface at a rapid rate. It was only a matter of time before he spat something out that he would no doubt regret. In your own haze of anger though, that fact didn’t register with you at all - you only saw red. If you had to scream back at him to finally pull some answers out of the man, then so fucking be it.

“No, how about you listen for once! I know we had that big fight but we could have just talked. The next day when you called me up I was ready to forgive you for being a complete ass. And what did I get instead? ‘I’m sorry, I think we should stop seeing each other’ and a dead dial tone after that. I can tell the only reason you’re apologising today is just so you don’t have to feel like the bad guy in all of this. So what’s the truth? Why were you so ready to throw away a whole relationship over one night of terse words?” you screamed, not caring that you two were at work and anyone could pass by outside and hear you two argue. With the way you both were shouting, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire building could hear your screaming match with Javier. None of that mattered to you though. The only thing that mattered was the truth. 

You weren’t the only one refusing to hold back in any of this: any lingering spark of politeness had vanished in Javi, his eyes turning dark with searing anger you had only seen in him a couple of times before. “You want to know why? You want to fucking know why? It’s because you’re a fucking pain to deal with. You may be a fantastic agent but god you can be so stupid sometimes. You’re too reckless, you throw yourself into danger too willingly with no consideration for anyone else. Did you ever stop to think what would happen to the people who cared about you if you died? Do you even give a shit about the people trying to protect you?” he confessed, fury burning with every word that came out of his mouth, his admittance making you flinch. It was just like he said during your last fight, the one that led to him dumping you in the first place. 

Everything he said from that night came rushing back to you, remembering how furious he’d been at you for what had happened during your last raid together. You could see that underneath it all he was concerned for your safety, a gesture that was usually sweet but frustrated you that night as you felt something more akin to a porcelain doll than a capable agent in his eyes. Just because I’m your girlfriend, doesn’t mean you can treat me like I need to be protected. I can handle myself just fine. That was what you’d said to him that night, which should have been the end of it but somehow as the argument went on things got more and more heated that by the time he’d stormed out of your apartment neither of you could remember what had started it all. 

What took you by surprise was that apparently he was still stewing about this, for some reason not wanting to believe in your capabilities as an agent and that alone made you more pissed at him. “I don’t need to be protected, Javier. I’m a woman, a DEA agent for crying out loud, not a flower! I’m more than capable of handling myself, I was literally trained for this! Nobody else here seems to have a problem with how I approach things so maybe the issue isn’t my method of attack but the fact that you’re a paranoid asshole?”. 

He raised a single eyebrow back at you, looking somewhat skeptical of your claim but more so angry that somehow you two had managed to circle back around to the very thing that had started this whole mess.“Really? Because our last raid you were throwing yourself into the fray as if it were a suicide mission. It was a miracle you only ended up with a minor sprain to the wrist. Those men, the sicario’s, they don’t fucking hold back, one wrong mistake means the difference between life and death” he snapped.“And you know what? After constantly stressing over your safety every minute I was done. If you wanna end up with a bullet between your eyes, be my guest”.

The second those words slipped from his lips, he knew he’d fucked up. As the tears started to form in your eyes you could see him freeze up, his burning temper that had caused him to be so hateful before starting to slowly seep back, replaced with remorse and a hint of panic if you squinted. Although that didn’t matter much right now - his venomous words were rattling around in your brain, acting as a metaphorical hammer that took the final swing towards your damaged heart. Apparently what you heard through the walls the night before hadn’t been enough to break you completely, since there was still enough left of your heart for the rest of it to be shattered by his callous cruelty. 

Forcefully swallowing down your cries, you wanted so badly to disappear from the room. You wanted to melt into the floor, to run away and go find one of Escobar’s men and gloat about all you’d done to try to stop him so you could feel the mercy of a fatal gunshot wound to the head. All the pain you had felt previously paled in comparison to the knife that cut you then, the tight feeling of your throat closing with every word you forced out. “So you were lying. You don’t care about me at all. You...you think I’m stupid. And reckless. And...not able to handle being here…”. 

“Shit, princesa, that’s not what I meant, I-” Javier started, desperately scrambling to fix the mess he’d caused, however, you weren’t going to let him. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. Any hope he might have had of making things right was now thrown straight out the window. No more chances. Not anymore. 

“I think that’s exactly what you meant, Javi. Well, you got your wish I guess. I’ll get out of your life for good” your voice wobbled as you spoke, the next few minutes becoming a blur from when you’d pushed past him and ran out of the evidence room, hearing him call your name behind and not bothering to turn back to face him, running through the halls past different agents and members of the DEA, your hand shielding yourself in a pathetic attempt to save face. Somehow you’d managed to make it out to your car, throwing yourself into the driver's seat and jamming the keys into the ignition, your mind going in a million different directions. Your first thought was to go back home, though you knew that you’d have to hear Javi come back later, probably with yet another woman he picked up. You didn’t exactly have any friends in Colombia - with your line of work there hadn’t been exactly a lot of time to sit around and mingle with people, and truth be told you wanted to avoid people at all costs right then. Without any idea as to where you might be going, or what you were going to do, you pulled your car out of the parking lot and slammed on the gas to get you out of there, the world surrounding you not registering to you anymore and every sound becoming a rush against your ears that you paid no mind to. 

One thing was for sure - you weren’t going to give Javier a single drop more of you. Your time, your mind, your energy, your tears, nothing. He’d already proved himself to be a lying sack of shit who didn’t care about you, so as it stood, you wouldn’t care about him either. Like the end of a tragic tale, everything had crashed and burned, and now that you thought about it more, maybe that was how things needed to be. 

Goodbye, Mr Perfectly Fine. I’ve been Miss Misery for the last time. 

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[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [One]

Night Changes Series Masterlist

Summary: It may have been years since Poe and the reader have seen one another, but that doesn’t make the emotional upheaval any easier to navigate for either of them.

Warnings: Fuck ton of angst, language, a lot of feelings, mentions of death and loss, grief. WC-5,780 (Jesus buckle up I guess!)

Poe was dreaming.

Nothing particularly special, but it was a dream nonetheless, a break from the usual nightmares that tended to invade his sleeping mind night after night when all he wanted was to succumb to the darkness for a few hours. The dream was more of a memory, a replaying of a night back on Yavin-4 so many years ago before he and Charlie had gone to flight school.

A night like every other, yet the humid evenings on Yavin 4 always did seem to hold a little mystery, like a warm blanket that wrapped one in a false sense of security; he could do anything. And on that evening, he had snuck some of his father’s good whiskey, the stuff from a planet far, far away, and gone to knock on Charlie’s window in the cover of darkness. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, though the whiskey was a new addition.

Charlie had answered immediately, a big grin stretching across his face even before he saw what Poe had brought, the relief in that grin piquing his curiosity-why did he seem grateful that Poe was there? When he climbed through the window, he found you were already there, sat on the floor across the small bedroom with your back against the end of Charlie’s bed, your face wet with tears and he understood your brothers reaction.

Before Poe could ask what was wrong, Charlie noticed the bottle in Poe’s hands and tapped it excitedly, “Just what we needed! How do you do it, brother?” His voice was always so loud, but in the Horn household it wasn’t an issue. Your mother was asleep on the other side of the house and even if she did wake, she wouldn’t come in and begrudge a little teen rebellion. Poe really liked her for that, for trusting them, for never making him feel unwelcome.

“Didn’t realize it would come in so handy. What's going on, sweetheart?” The affectionate nickname had been around for years, so long now that he hardly noticed himself using it. He liked the way it tugged the corners of your lips up, even when you were sad. But he didn’t like that you were sad right now, his concern only growing when you pulled your knees to your chest and dropped your head to them, hiding your face and, no doubt, a fresh wave of tears.

You had always hated crying in front of them, for some reason. Charlie never cried, but Poe had no issues with sobbing outright in front of you both. He didn’t understand why you felt you had to hide it from him.

Without speaking, Charlie and Poe sat down on either side of you, your brother taking the whiskey and opening it, taking a small swig and huffing through the smoky burn.“Kid, you tell him.” He used that extra soft voice reserved only for you, his free hand reaching over to pat your foot on the ground next to him.

Poe had his shoulder pressed against yours. He knew you enjoyed how warm he always was, that you thought of him as your personal furnace, cuddling him even on warm days like this because you seemed to forever run a little chilly, or maybe you were just a touchy person and you were that comfortable with Poe.

After a few moments of quiet sniffling, you finally raised your head, setting your chin on your knees and staring straight ahead. “Gus ended things earlier.” You whispered into the moonlit room, your voice wavering somewhat with emotion, though Poe could sense it was more of embarrassment and disappointment of being dumped than that of actual heartbreak.

Poe felt an odd mixture of both anger and relief sweep through him, the latter of which he resolutely shoved away, into the far reaches of his mind to be stubbornly ignored. “That kriffing asshole! Who does he think he is, dumping our girl?” And truly, what the fuck audacity did that guy have? Did he not have eyes? Did he not spend just five minutes with you and feel like he was sitting in the company of a Sun, so bright and warm as you were?

You gave a watery laugh at his words, and Poe felt warmth pool in his chest; he was always good at making you laugh. He saw Charlie’s shoulders sag somewhat with relief upon hearing you, always so protective and yet he had difficulty reigning in some of your big emotions, often looking to Poe for his help.

“He said it was because I’m a prude. Because I wouldn’t, you know,” You broke off, and Poe glanced down at you to see you bite your lip briefly, eyes still forward, “He said there was no point going on dates if I wouldn’t even give him the chance to, and I quote, ‘appreciate your tits properly, at the least.’”

Poe turned to face you fully now, his eyes meeting Charlies over your head. His friend looked just as annoyed as Poe felt, hearing what that skinny piece of shit had dared to say to you. A silent agreement crossed between them then, Gus would be meeting their fists come morning. For now, though, Poe focused on you, tossing an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your hair, “He’s a prize fucking idiot, sweetheart, doesn’t know what he’s losing. Right, Charlie?”

“Exactly. Remember kid, no guy is ever going to deserve you because you are perfect. You don’t need to cry over someone who can’t see how lucky he is you even let him breathe the same air as you,” Charlie added his arm to your shoulders, curving under Poe’s, “Flyboy and I will take care of you, always.” He promised, and you nodded before reaching both hands up to grab each of theirs on your shoulders.

“Thank you.”

And Poe stayed the night, each of you taking turns to sip the whiskey until eventually sleep won out and Charlie crashed on his bed. You and Poe curled up on some pillows on the floor together, your head resting on his chest and even though he knew you were sad, which made him sad too, he couldn’t help but feel truly whole in those moments before sleep took over.

It was a good memory, one which he would have been content to remain in until the abrupt and incessant whirring and beeping of his droid woke him, Poe shooting up in his bed with a shout of surprise. “What? Are we being attacked?”

BB8 came to a stop near the edge of his bed, his noises growing quieter now that he’d woken Poe up.

“Buddy, it’s my day off. You better have a good reason for scaring the living hell out of me-“

The droid beeped again, clarifying his reason for interrupting his rest day. Interest piqued, Poe ran a hand over his face before planting his feet on the floor and leaning towards the droid.

“The new replacement is here? Guess that means the General wants me to come and meet them?”

BB8 confirmed, and now his alarming wake-up made more sense. The droid was as excited as Poe to meet his new second in command. He’d just lost his long-time friend, Jess Pava, to a new unit on an outpost for the Resistance. He’d recommended her for it, at her bequest, because he knew she’d be damn good for the role. But it didn’t make the loss any less disruptive; she’d been gone a few weeks now and he’d had to take on extra duties to compensate.

General Organa had profusely apologized to him a few times now, only explaining that the replacement was due back from a classified mission ‘soon’, and once they were they would be coming straight to D’Qar to join his squadron. He didn’t mind the work, but he was a little miffed that the day the new Major arrived was his only day off.

Poe quickly got himself ready for the day, taking a speedy shower in his fresher before pulling on his khaki’s and button up. Once pleased with his appearance, he stepped out of the fresher and walked toward his small desk area, above which he had a corkboard with a few mementos pinned up, including his favourite picture.

You were standing in the middle, sandwiched between him and Charlie, a big, goofy grin on your face. Charlie was laughing in the photo, and Poe was looking down at you with a fond smile. You all wore flight suits, as it was taking when you had first joined Gold Squadron. Charlie had his arm flung over your shoulders while Poe’s was snaked around your waist. You had your arms wrapped around each of their waists, though Poe remembers how your hand had brushed up his back before the picture was taken, fingers unknowingly leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He looked at this photo every morning, tapped it once and then carried on with his day. It was the only time he allowed his conscious mind to think of Charlie, of you, and the life he lost in the blink of an eye.

When the door to his quarters opened, Poe saw a few service droids unloading a couple of crates into the room directly across from his. The room where the new member of his team would live. He could see within the unit as the door was open for the droids to carry items in, a few cases already inside the otherwise bare space.

Being careful to step around the droids and avoid falling over his own, who was wheeling excitedly along next to Poe, he made his way to command, hoping the introductions wouldn’t take too long. He had woken up with a big appetite.

And he really needed his morning caf.

“Ready to meet them, buddy?” He asked of his droid, and BB8 gave a happy little ‘weeee’ as he zoomed along beside Poe. He laughed loudly and BB8 pulled ahead, the doors of the command room opening at their approach.

Poe could see into the room now, activity within quiet enough that General Organa and the new arrival both heard his laughter and turned as he walked into the room. For a few beats, Poe kept walking, his mind not processing what he was seeing because it simply could not be. And then he froze, mid-stride.

It was you.

And from the patch on your uniform, it was now Major Horn.

And just like that, every emotion, every feeling of guilt and self-hatred and heartbreak came roaring to the surface, breaking through the walls he’d so carefully built up around what he’d done when he lost Charlie, when he’d lost you, walls he spent the last few years reinforcing as best he could.

Leia knew of the history, though she didn’t know any details of why neither of you had spoken since that terrible fucking night. She simply knew you’d all grown up together, which was probably why she hadn’t felt the need to warn Poe that it was you coming to take over as his second in command. Maybe she thought you had kept in touch and were expecting her.

Stars, Poe hadn’t seen you in person since the funeral. The night he ruined the best thing he had in his life because he couldn’t deal with his grief and took it all out on you, of all people. Poe thought of Charlie then because your brother and you looked a bit alike, but it was your eyes; you each had the exact same eyes. Though yours were lined with thick, long lashes that would sometimes tickle Poe’s cheeks when you would lean in and press a chaste kiss to them.

It had only been a few years, but so much about you had changed. Gone was the goofy girl with braids falling past her shoulders, her big smile that stretched from ear to ear. No, now Poe was looking at you and you were all grown up, wearing your uniform, hair pulled back into a low bun that was woven with intricate braids, a few wisps framing your face. You had leaned out slightly, though you still had your curves, the ones that had boy after boy falling for you back in the day-no doubt now it was man after man. He found his eyes flicking from your face to your hands, but he saw no ring. Not that he should even be thinking of whether you were single or not.

But somehow, it felt like he should know if you were with someone. Because Charlie would have expected Poe to always keep an eye on you, be there for you. The only person he let down more than Charlie was you. He knew his best friend would murder him if he knew the things Poe had said to you that night. He had never known a greater regret, a regret that he carried with him since the moment he spoke and watched your face contort in pain, as though he’d hit you with a physical blow.

He had wanted to apologize, to take it all back that very moment. He couldn’t believe himself, but you’d pull away to be sick and he was so shocked at how much he’d managed to hurt you that he couldn’t do anything other than listen to you when you ordered him to get away from you.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on him, either.

He’d walked straight to the hangar where his x-wing was parked and took it out, finding a secluded spot a few hours away to camp for two days, just to clear his head. He cried and grieved and then he realized just how badly he’d fucked up and he panicked. He started to plan how he would apologize, what he would do to earn your forgiveness and then tell you how he truly felt. But he failed you, hurt you, and he knew he had a lot of work ahead to repair what he’d broken.

Only, when he came back to base and sought you out, he instead found Jess and Tommy waiting for him by your room, their faces so grim his heart had stopped in his chest, and he’s not sure it ever restarted once he found out you’d left. Without a word or a note, you had just...deserted him.

And he knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Nor did finding out that you’d been clever enough to have your new assignment sealed, eliminating any chance he could have had of going after you.

And he would have. He’d have flown across the galaxy to find you.

Instead, Poe was alone and never, ever forgave himself for being the reason you had fled in the first place.

Eventually, Poe grew enough in rank that he was able to access your private files. He only did so now and again, just to check-in and make sure you were still alive and on active duty. The last time he’d checked had been about five months ago, and it had stated you were on a classified mission that even he couldn’t access the details of. But he knew you were alive and doing well enough that you were getting assigned seriously high-class missions. Charlie would have been so proud of you.

It was a few awkward moments before Poe was able to function, quickly shaking off his shock and continuing forward, his eyes tearing away from your too-blank expression to meet the warm gaze of General Organa. “Commander Dameron, I believe you know Major Horn here. Thank you for coming to greet her with me this morning.” Leia smiled between him and you, and Poe had to swallow before returning it, breaking out his usual grin.

When he looked back at you, he found your blank expression had now morphed into one of utter contempt. An insane part of him wanted to laugh, because how could (y/n) Horn, his best friend since he was a boy, the girl who had owned his heart, ever look at him like that?

Instead, Poe forced a friendly smile, nodding to you politely, “Welcome, Major. It’s...it’s good to see you. And congratulations on your promotion. I’m happy to have you join our team.” He stuck his hand out and hoped you would grasp it.

Your eyes, so much more intense than he ever remembered, searched his face for a second before you took his proffered hand and shook, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“It’s an honour to be here, Commander.” You replied, and Poe had to blink, pulling his hand way almost too quickly. Stars, you even sounded more grown-up. Your voice had always been a little breathy, which Poe had always found alluring. But now it had matured, the breathless way you spoke now demure, feminine.  

“I was just telling Major Horn that after you two had met the day was open,” Leia said, seemingly unaware of the tension between her two best pilots, “I know you earned this day off, Commander, so enjoy it!”

Poe couldn’t help but give her a wide grin, “Thank you, General.”  

“Yes, thank you for taking the time to...reunite us, General.” You said, excusing yourself before abruptly walking past Poe and out of command.

He rushed after you, BB8 still at his side, now beeping in confusion at what the hell was going on. Poe ignored the droid, catching up to you just down the hall. “Wait...(y/n)...”

He trailed off, unsure of what he could even say to you, questioning why he’d stopped your departure. You ceased walking and turned to look at Poe, your expression now openly hostile, which he knew he deserved yet it still stung. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he stood before you, a huge part of him wishing you’d start yelling at him. Or hitting him.

Instead, you gazed up at Poe and after a moment your face fell, a storm of emotions rolling across your pretty features. You took a careful, measured step back from him, as if afraid he might try and reach out to you. “I didn’t know I was coming here to be on your team,” You didn’t meet his eyes when you spoke, instead focusing on the droid at his feet, “But this is a big opportunity for me, so we’ll make it work.”

You sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself rather than Poe, but he nodded all the same. “Of course. And you deserve it.”

You scoffed, “Thanks so much, Commander.”

“I’ve missed you.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say that. It was just that one moment you were biting your lip, and then the next you were giving him a familiar look of incredulity that he remembered receiving more than once growing up and he suddenly needed you to hear that he did miss you. Missed you more than you could ever really know.

Poe saw a flash in your eyes before you spun on your heels and marched away, not looking back. He didn’t try to follow you again. He knew there wasn’t a whole lot he could say, not right now when you were both still reeling from the shock of seeing one another again.

And what could he even say to you? Sorry for taking our friendship and smashing it to pieces at the worst possible time? For never speaking to you again because I was too cowardly to try and find you, especially once I realized how deeply I felt for you? And how could he explain how those feelings seemed to develop over such a long time that he didn’t recognize them for what they truly were until you were gone?

Charlie would have hated what had happened between you both. He would have killed Poe, easily, but he’d had also been disappointed in you. Charlie had protected you both that day because you and Poe were his family, and if he found out that his family never spoke again after the funeral? He’d have been livid.

Guilt and regret now at the forefront of his mind, Poe had lost his appetite. Instead, he found the nearest caf machine before hurrying to the flight deck and climbing in his x-wing eager to get off the ground and clear his head for a few hours.

He spent the rest of the morning thinking about Charlie, his heart tight in his chest.

✨

“I’ve missed you.”

You could hit him, you really could. No one was around, either, you might get away with it. But that would be too easy and not nearly as satisfying as you might hope, you knew.

The audacity of Poe fucking Dameron saying he missed you was so infuriating, you briefly considered violence. But you had grown up with him, knew the way he worked even if it had been a few years. You could hate him and still understand him, which meant that he wanted you to give him a strong reaction that he could confront head-on. Scream and punch and cry and he would instantly work to comfort, to apologize, but it was really just a way to make himself feel better.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

You spun away-not before seeing the pained expression cross his face-and hurried off. You figured if you still had such a decent read on him, the same went for Poe. He’d always been able to read you, your body language, expressions, hell Charlie usually went to Poe for help when he couldn’t figure out how to support you, comfort you.

You needed some time alone, time to process and figure out the best way to make this work.

When you were invited by the General herself to come to D’Qar, to work under her ‘top pilot and most trusted Commander’, you hadn't blinked before saying yes. And you’d known that it would mean, inevitably, seeing Poe again-you knew he still worked here. But you’d had no idea until he walked into command that morning that it was his team you were joining.

When you’d been standing with General Organa in the control room, chatting amicably about the weather, the very last thing you’d expected to hear was his booming, rich laugh. And then the doors had opened, a small droid whizzing in, and his laughter continued as he stepped into the room. You had thought you might pass out, throw up, or start screaming.  

With no idea what he was doing there, you had simply stared at him, watched as he reacted to seeing you. Actively working to keep your expression blank, you stared at your once best friend for the first time in years, going numb inside.

In some ways it had been almost comical; he’d frozen mid-step and gaped at you stupidly for a few beats before coming to his senses and continuing forward. And it was at that moment you had realized he was the superior you were meeting. He was the Commander you’d be working under. When he stood directly in front of you, your mind betrayed you by immediately zoning in on one specific thought.

But stars, he’d aged well.

When he finally was able to collect himself enough to wipe the surprise off of his face, it had settled into that easy smile you remembered so well. The one you tried to never think of because of the pain that would build in your chest, the memories and feelings that you had refused to look back on for a very long time now at risk of bursting through your mental walls if you weren’t careful.

Now, that smile revealed a slight crinkling around his eyes, though he hadn’t changed much beyond that. He was just as broad and lean as you remembered, just as handsome and you thought he might be a little more built up, a new layer of muscle moving under his button-up. Charlie would have loved to tease him over the grey flecks you could barely discern in his raven locks, and you suddenly wondered if your brother would have had any grey hair himself.

Those thoughts were fleeting at that moment before fury and sadness and longing were suddenly overtaking you and it was all you could do to remain composed in front of the General when, for the first time in years, you wanted to crumble to the ground. That fucking grin of his, it was always maddening, always so attractive and disarming.

When you were kids, he’d do it to get away with something and even though your parents knew he’d done it, it would work and he’d barely get a slap on the wrist. As teenagers, the strongest memory you had of that grin was one time when he’d climbed into Charlie’s room late at night and your brother wasn’t there-he’d fallen asleep on the couch-so Poe wandered to your room.

You had just gotten out of the fresher, having taken a quick rinse off to cool down, and hadn’t shut the door. Your bedroom door was closed and it was the middle of the night; you hadn’t expected any company. And then Poe just sauntered in, his eyes on your bed where he doubtless thought he’d find you. You had barely had time to freeze, completely naked and mid-stride as you sought a clean nightgown when he seemed to sense you. His head had jerked in your direction in surprise.

That memory forever burned into your mind. The way his eyes had fallen, then snapped up to your face and instead of seeing amusement or a pervy smirk, Poe had slapped his hands over his eyes, cursed, apologized vehemently in a loud whisper, and then he grinned. That grin, just as powerful even though his eyes were covered. It spread across his face and you couldn’t help but laugh despite your embarrassment, quickly throwing on a nightgown before walking over and punching him in the sides a few times, hissing didn’t he know how to knock?

And though you worried it might affect things between you and your best friend, it never did seem to. For you, it did in some ways because you couldn’t seem to get the look on his face (the one that slipped out just before he could properly react and compose himself) out of your head and you wondered what it meant-if anything. He still stayed the night, climbing into your bed, his arms casually behind his head as he laid next to you and told you about his day while never once teasing you.

At one point, when sleep was close, eyes drooping and your cheek resting against his arm, Poe’s soft voice had pulled you from unconsciousness. Barely a whisper, he said, “I really am sorry I came in without knocking, sweetheart. Please forgive me.”

And he’d sounded so concerned, so genuinely stressed that you would be mad at him, you had snuggled closer into his side and murmured your reassurances until eventually, you fell asleep.

Today, however, it was only memories of what that smile used to mean to you and anger for what it was now. That he got to keep that easy fucking grin all these years, it only pissed you off. The logical part of you knew he had been just as surprised to see you and was no doubt struggling himself now, but you didn’t have room to care.

He had been the one to break you, to take your friendship and pulverize it by saying the worst possible things to you.

He had broken you.

That fight hadn’t just been the loss of what you had thought was the greatest friendship in the galaxy. It had been the final moment that took your life from carefree and fun to what it was now, what it had been since. Joyless, lacking, lonely-so fucking lonely.

That had been the night you had to grow up, realizing that not only was Charlie gone, but the life you’d had was too. Gone were the days of adventure, of going on test flights and racing one another, of Poe getting you drinks at the cantina and Charlie sitting with his arm slung casually over your shoulders, until any of you spotted someone who caught your interest. Someone who would only be around for the night but would bring a little pleasure and escape. Charlie was more often the one to go home with such a person, happy to play the field and often making new friends you’d see again, even though he never exclusively dated them.

And the little flare of excitement you’d get each time it was just you and Poe? That had been carefree too because whatever it meant didn’t need to be examined, it just was. Casual touches that lingered and sent heat up your spine, easy and flowing conversation, long hugs even when you’d see each other the next day. All of that had been such a prominent fixture in your life, the slow escalation between you and Poe was something that, to this day, you never tried to understand.

But then Charlie died; everything changed, and you left and never looked back. All the while, Poe Dameron kept grinning like that. Fuck, fuck!

You almost walked straight past your new room, so lost in your thoughts and memories, but thankfully a passing droid greeting you politely pulled to the moment, and you only had to retrace a few steps back. Immense relief washed over you the moment you saw that all of your items had been delivered and unpacked, only a box of mementos and photos left on your desk for you to find new homes for.

Even the bed had been made already. And as much as you wanted to just climb under the covers and shut the world away, you instead set yourself to the task of putting the final touches on your space.

The room was silent save for your occasional gasps and hiccups as you let your emotions run free in the privacy. You proudly displayed the plaque you had been given from the Resistance following Charlie’s funeral; a handsome photo of him in uniform set in the middle, his name inscribed along with his rank, years of life and final resting place on Yavin-4. His flight suit patch was attached to the plaque above the photo, the final touch to a beautiful little tribute to Charlie that you could take with you wherever in the galaxy you went.

The final item you pulled out was a small protective album for photos you displayed in your room. You pulled out the photos, ones of you and Charlie as kids, of your parents, of the whole family plus Poe during one hilariously disastrous little vacation that resulted in all of you returning home and ignoring one another for three days, even Poe. A few from your teen years, early and late, Poe and Charlie usually taking up the most space in the photos between their sizes and huge smiles, and the final photo you had was your absolute favourite.

Smushed between Charlie and Poe, you had a smile on your face that hadn’t been seen in years. It was silly, girlish and youthful and not the person you were anymore. You were looking at the camera, Charlie with his big arm over the top of your shoulders, laughing as he looked toward the camera as well. Poe was looking at you. Giving you a warm smile that you always suspected he only shared with you, one that melted his eyes to pools of warm honey and made your insides wriggle. You remember how his hand burned where he gripped your waist, and you had instinctively traced your hand up his spine in the moment, though you never understood why.  

That photo both broke your heart and made you smile every time you looked at it. The last photo of the three of you together, the three of you happy. A photo that not only showed your love for one another but also hinted at that feeling you never did examine. A photo that revealed that feeling might not have been one-sided, not at all.

When you finished your tidying, you took a seat at your desk and used your data pad to pull up your schedule, curious what the days ahead would look like. Right away you could see no missions in the queue, though that could change in an instant. And as eager as you were to get flying, you knew it would probably be best to spend the next couple of days trying to establish yourself on base, meet the rest of your team, and figure out how you were going to keep a cool head spending so much time working with Poe.

With a heavy sigh, you glanced at the clock and decided a late lunch was in order, hopeful that the weird hour would leave the caf quiet. Although you knew you’d be recognized you did hope to push that off for as long as possible.  

You needed to swallow back your feelings and face the fact that you weren’t just working directly for General Leia. You were back on D’Qar; a planet that Charlie had spent enough time on, even before you joined Gold Squadron, to make lasting friendships and leave an incredible reputation behind after he’d died. You hadn’t been back since the funeral, so it was inevitable that others would be bringing him up, asking after you, where you had disappeared to, why you’d left without saying goodbye to pretty much everyone.

You needed to suck it up because you had a job to do and your work for the Resistance was the only thing anymore that made your life worthwhile. No family, no close friends, no partners, just fighting the fight and being the best damn pilot you could be.

You wondered if Charlie would be proud of you. Of how far you’d come, of the fact that you were now the same rank as he had been before his death. But after seeing Poe today you knew that wouldn’t have entirely been the case, not with how things all ended up.

So, you reasoned with yourself, that meant that you had to work extra hard here on D’Qar to push aside the history between you and your Commander. And actually, indifference and coldness were probably going to be your best assets going forward.

At least you had a game plan.

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